You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.
I dream that some things are being taken out from under me. Then I’m walking through a garden with someone I don’t trust and telling them something I think they want to hear; my gut clenches because it’s contrary to what I really want.
I surface to wakefulness gradually, wanting to shed the lingering discomfort and return to solid ground.
There’s always these things: celebratory moments followed by bumps in the road that knock a wheel or two off of the wagon. Mountaintops and valleys of varying height and depth.
This morning, I’m putting the wheels back on and leaning in to a day that promises a measure solitude and silence.