It hit today. After months of dealing with build-out of my new office space, endless excursions for furniture and cabinets and paint and paintings, I was exhausted. Bone deep done.

But you do what you have to do, right? I thought about how nice it was that it was Friday and the weekend was coming—until I remembered that I’m manning a booth this weekend at the Women’s Fest Convention. Oh please, don’t let that be this weekend. It is.

I hoisted those bones out of bed to pour a steaming cup of coffee—extra caffeine please. But instead of a full pot waiting for me, I had a full counter of grounds and brownish water spilling onto the floor and between the cabinet and oven. Deep breath. Clean up. Make coffee again. Whip the milk. Pour a cup.

A fine time to proceed to an argument with Dearest. Did he actually “accidentally” print 30 pages again? In color? Hadn’t I shown him a dozen times how to choose the one page he wanted to print? Does he have any idea how much ink cartridges cost anyway? (Slight recognition that there was some ever-so-slight possibility that my outrage was ever-so-slightly out of proportion to the offense. Slightly).

Coffee finally in hand, I walk into the den only to find that Remington the cat had chosen the carpet—not the tile inches away—on which to deposit his dinner the night before. Set down coffee. Haul the vacuum up from the basement. Plug in. Nothing but the sound of a grinding motor. You kidding me? Add trip to Kirby dealer to my to do list.

I wanted to take a clue, or 10, and simply return to bed and skip this day. Who knew what might come next? I usually take my coffee in the living room but the east window in the den had hints of pink slipping through the panes. It caught my breath. Maybe there would be some good in this day too. I stepped over the carpet mess–it wasn’t going anywhere–sat on the couch and sipped coffee and breathed. And waited and watched as the pink grew to a deeper apricot across the snow covered vineyard. It forced me to slow down and breath a little deeper because the morning sun was not to be rushed. But then, a sliver of round crested the horizon and slowly grew to a ball so fiery and intense that as I sit here now, I’ve had to move to protect my eyes.

I grabbed the phone to snap a picture. It was too beautiful not to capture. The phone battery was dead. I’m not making this stuff up. A hastily grabbed power plug lets me share a bit of the beauty with you. IMG_3631

IMG_3635I know this is a function of this crazy time right now. I know that it will pass. But this morning, I also know that if I’m willing to stop and take notice, there is beauty in addition to cat vomit, coffee grounds and broken vacuums. I’m reminded of how overwhelming life can feel to most of my clients. And yet there is beauty available for them too. Sometimes you stop and clean up the coffee grounds, sometimes you step over the cat vomit. The beauty doesn’t always wait. In the midst of all the fear and sadness and trepidation and anger, I hope they keep an antennae up for the good too. Notice it, sit, take a breath and experience it for just a moment today. The sun will rise again.

Wishing you wisdom,



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