When I Wake Up in the Morning    
by Betsy

I wake up in the morning after surviving my first year of forced retirement, I welcome the day. My day always begins with my warm cat meowing loudly for his back rub. He loves me whether or not my head is aching or my shoulders are stiff. Gently rubbing his back seems like small payment for the comfort his company brings me against the loneliness of living alone during the pandemic. 

After breakfast, I cradle my giant cup of Constant Comment tea, the tea that my grandmother always served us. I remember how she loved me and always gave me her warmest smiles. Then I pump myself full of spiritual readings and emails with affirmations to hold onto my world view of the glass half full. Some days I am overtaken by mourning for having my energy drop from forty hours a week of work to maybe four hours a day (in two-hour segments) with long naps in between. 

Mostly I have learned how to roll with whatever energy I have each day, and to listen to my body to know when I absolutely must rest. I try to stay awake during various Zoom meetings about quilting or writing, and designing computer games. I have to mark my day as a good day if I can quilt for two hours or be coherent enough to remember what I heard in a Zoom about writing children’s books. Often, I can’t do these both on the same day. 

My goal is to accept where I am today with ME. I want to travel the world and to be awake all day, but that’s not my reality. Now that I’m on my fourth trip down the ME road, I want to balance the energy I spend each day so it’s sustainable. So, I read my affirmations and I practice making lemonade from life’s lemons.