GLISTENING RADIANCE
… and assorted shining synonyms
Monday Mar. 24, 2014
Every Monday, every morning – do we have shining, stunning, stellar days?
Morning is essential, connects my night to my noon.
If morning hasn’t started me to success, lunch and afternoon must work doubly hard.
Morning is awakening, re-affirmation our sun shines, luminous earth still turns – everything gleaming, possible, probable, achievable, thinkable, desirable, credible. Duck soup, no sweat, piece of cake. Easy as pie.
No morning feels like another.
So close, we don’t notice, like snowflakes, they all look much the same.
Who has time to get out their microscope, or cares?
Exactly, who cares if today is like yesterday?
Easy: nobody cares.
Sad, often true – no day will shine unless we shine.
If I shine, this day has a chance.
If I don’t, this day has to struggle very hard.
Or do we settle for one just the same as the last one – without tempo and liveliness.
Every morning looks and feels much the same. Monday feels like Monday. Scheduled routines for my Mondays are unlike any other day of the week. If you showed me a silent film of myself I would tell you it was a Monday. No way it could be mistaken for any other day of the week. Similar distinctions for other days of the week? Not so much. I need to work on those.
Back to Monday, a better question: how will this Monday shine compared to other Mondays?
Take today, make this shining example – best of you that you’ve ever done so it is the best Monday, unlike any dull or ordinary Monday ever before.
As for next Monday, wow, won’t our bar be set high?
Mark Kolke
198,160
column written/ published from Calgary
morning walk: -11C/ 13F, clear, light breeze; we took a long loop walk on mostly bare sidewalks for a change – exhilarating alternative to the gym being closed for repairs today and tomorrow. Gusta keeps finding smelly interesting things that are frozen solid or frozen to ground – it is hilarious to watch her try though . . .
Reader feedback / comments always welcome:
The message that your dad had died was sad. Part of it is relief and release, but now you are the one your grandkids will remember and pick up hints from on how the family fits into the world. Continuance. Your dad in you, you in them. You are now the Patriarch. They will have a lot to live up to. Did you happen to see this on NPR? I was surprised to see the statistics and wonder what your opinion is. What I didn't see in this, although I haven't read his book, is a hypothesis for a better plan. Maybe it's just... gumption. Now, there's a family trait to pass on to the grandkids! All the best, MO, Monterey, CA
