Waking Up - A Daily Exercise in Gratitude and Discipline

I don't use an alarm. I am, with rare exception, mysteriously able to wake at the correct time. Mysterious because during the day, I am clueless about time. Before my eyes are open, I listen. And I am grateful when I hear the sounds of my husband working. I am grateful he is alive. We have another day together. I am grateful that he is enjoying his early morning alone time. Eyes still closed, I listen for birds. And I'm grateful that I can hear their delicate songs, grateful that I have the human capacity to recognize beauty.

I open my left eye. And I rejoice that I can see the texture of tree tops outside my window. I close my left eye and I open my right eye. With this eye I can't see trees, I see shades of gray blur. And I am grateful for the corneal transplant in my left eye, grateful for my organ donor and his family. I am grateful for trees and another day of vision.

With just the left eye, my new eye, I look at the light fixture on the ceiling. When I was healing from the transplant it was how I measured improvement. Could I see the beaded metal work better than the day before? It's been more than a year and I still see it clearly. I am grateful that the healing is behind me, and I am grateful for this abiding trust that my donor and I belong to each other. . . . . for now.

For kicks I look at the light fixture with my right eye. Seeing the beige blob, I feel lucky to have this reminder that we never see it all. The eye that sees it as a blob can easily be deceived by its limited ability to perceive. And the other eye? Perhaps it too is deceived by its limitations. The deception goes unnoticed because the general population shares the limitations. Uhmmm. How does a physicist or a quantum theorist see the light fixture? I am grateful for perception. And I am grateful for awareness of the curious nature of perception.

Now for the discipline. I want to hop out of bed and head for the coffee. Instead I begin yoga stretches, necessary maintenance for an aging former gymnast and current ballroom dance instructor. I am grateful for the years of dancing. I am grateful that yoga can minimize past injuries and aging. And I am grateful that I am living long enough to age.

I sit for a moment and remind myself that life will not go exactly as I plan it today. There will be some disruption and if I keep my heart open, the disruptions will bring me an adventure, a friend, some surprising insight, an interesting bit of knowledge, or an unexpected sound, texture, smell, or sight.

And I am grateful for a peaceful and mindful start to my day. This part of my day is well lived.