This morning I sit with coffee and a bowl of fading zinnias, still so filled with their color, still tiny gorgeous miracles. I am feeling a tiny bit rushed because I woke up late and in about a minute I am going to be making a beeline for work in time for a meeting.
But I thought I would be in gratitude anyway. Even if I am rushing, and possibly some cortisol is starting to make its way into my bloodstream. Or is even that just a thought?
I am going to make every move in gratitude today. And a tiny voice in me says, “what else is there, really?”
I suppose that is another way of saying that everything is everything.