Yesterday was Day 1. As I walked to my classroom, the first place I'd ever teach academically, this was my view. It was a poetic moment-- one of those emotions that movies attempt to capture about real life, but never quite can. Well, maybe some are moved, but it is different for everyone.
This light reminded me of white plantation shutters and morning -- how fresh and beautiful it feels at that time of day. I could hear soft music and smell coffee. It's where we all feel at our best. The light floods the house and surrounds me. As the day wears on, nothing looks as it did when I woke up, when I felt the warmth of a new day. Mornings never get old or repetitive for me.
I prepared heavily for this day. I had folders and pens and a syllabus. I brought gum and snacks. I had even rehearsed some of the inspiring sentiments for the class. But, most inspiring of it all was this lighted path in the hallway. It stood for something, many things, to me. All at once I felt grateful and inspired. It was steeped with metaphors-- surely some I have yet to completely understand.
There are many who go through life feeling as if they couldn't take care of themselves or don't have the confidence to speak up or change their existence to something better, more fulfilling. Not me. Not this life. Living is for beautiful mornings on days like this. It is the knowing that it exists especially for me, it can be felt and remembered, even when it's no longer morning. It is more than a dream.
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