Good Morning

This morning, I woke up after a full, uninterrupted night’s rest. It felt great. I’m glad I decided to not watch extra tv last night and listened to my body’s signals of near-exhaustion.

When I awoke I was greeted by the sound of birdies. I love how they chatter so in the early morning.

Mimicking the chattering of my soul.

On the heels of dreams and processing the previous’s days events, mornings are often a creative time for me. It’s hard when I don’t wake up extra early and instead have to cram all the creativity into some other place in my day. But, alas, I make it work!

And then there are those days where creativity is not so rampant in my head and my energy is simply invested in day-to-day tasks—as a mother, as a home manager, as a professional.

Those days are hard though, cuz my emotions don’t know where to go.

I find I thrive the most when I have space for my emotions to be present. So the days when I am non-stop working don’t look or feel so pretty.

Well, today it is raining, now pouring (thankfully the birdies are safe in their trees, or wherever they hide away during a storm), as well as thundering. I am a sunny, beach weather girl—it boosts my mood and is delightful—but I can’t deny the lovely pensiveness of a rainy day!

Recently, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my dad. And, by recently, I mean for the past 15 years since I started writing to cope with his sudden passing in 2006.

My dad was amazing. In fact, one of the reasons I know that I can be a writer, is that I will never be short on material. If I ever am not sure what to talk about, I can always dive into my heart center, where memories upon memories are stored. But it’s more than the number of them, it’s the depth. My dad, he carried himself with this gentle humility. He shined with his strengths of empathy, kindness, and creativity, and he managed his weaknesses mindfully and with grace.

He worked late hours so I didn’t see him much during the week, but he did get my brother and me on the bus in the mornings! He was devoted to that! And on weekends, he spent tons of quality time with us. He clearly adored us! And we adored him.

I’m happy for my dad that he was able to thrive as a doctor in private practice, incorporating his creativity, his soul into his work. He personally gave his patients their weekly allergy shots, he even mixed each of the various serums (ragweed, pollen, etc.—I know y’all are familiar with pollen, if you live down South like me!), based off of discussing with each patient that week what their exposure to that allergen had been.

In addition to that, he spoke to his patients and heard about how their life was. Whether it was coaching his pediatric patients on an upcoming math project or listening to his adult patients’ current social conundrums, my dad was there, present for all of it. I knew the kids loved him, because they made drawings for him, which he put on the wall of the exam room. Lots of Charlie Brown drawings.

I knew the adults adored him because my dad got a ton of presents around Christmas time, as well as holiday postcards.

When I sat down to write this morning, I wanted to share how important mindfulness and creativity is to our well-being. I wanted to mention this amazing organization that my friend runs to help cultivate mindfulness and self-compassion in children and inner children alike!

I wanted to express how much his organization’s mission resonates with my own—which was formed on the shoulders of my beloved, revered father.

So let’s get to it! Click here to learn more about my friend’s wonderful organization.

Wishing you all a good Sunday,


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