Flowers or Fireworks?

 

 

I spotted these flowers the other day and was mesmerized. Even though they were real, they looked fake. (Or maybe they were fake, but looked real. Hmm…) I didn’t buy them or anything. I just admired them, for their crazy, firework-y appeal. And regardless of the human manipulation involved (dye, dye, dye), they made me smile.

 

I’m getting over whatever the heck I’ve contracted (sick, sick, sick). Personally, I need beauty. I need to smile. I need to feel better than my body actually is. So this post is mostly for me. Here’s hoping it lifts my spirits.

 

Happy Monday.

Monday, Monday

 

 

A week ago, I started Monday with a carryover of Sunday’s blues. It wasn’t the best.

 

But today is a new Monday, a new week. And I feel new as well. I didn’t do anything extraordinary over the weekend. It was what some might call boring. I stayed home all weekend, spent time with Mister (who had a summer cold), watched the wrap-up of the Rio Olympics games and chilled. And it couldn’t have been lovelier.

 

One gift of age, for me, is recognizing who I truly am and honoring her. I don’t always succeed on those fronts, but when I do, I experience true happiness, right down to my core. Those moments are beautiful and I love them. Not to imply that I’m completely content in life, because that isn’t true. I still want to scale mountains and achieve personal goals. It’s just that I’m not unhappy in the meantime. And I attribute my relative joy in life to knowing myself. It has made a tremendous difference for me, and I kind of feel like I’ve only just begun. Considering I could be dreading my age and all it entails, I feel pretty darned grateful for being so positive and smiley about the whole scene.

 

So here’s to Monday and this blank canvas of a week. I can see a few hills before me. Mountains, maybe. No time like the present to start climbing…

Monday, Monday

 

 

Some Mondays find me happy the weekend is over. Some find me wanting to go back to re-live my weekend. I never know which way I’ll feel until I’m knee-deep into any given Monday.

 

This fine day is interesting. I’m super-happy to start a new week. I’m happy to have woken at all. I’ve got plenty to do. I also had a fab weekend. I got to visit with friends and family. I got to eat and drink, drink, drink. And then I got to eat some more. Pool time was pretty awesome, too.

 

Maybe what I’m feeling is The Flow. Maybe I’m experiencing what it means to be present in one’s life. To bloom where I’m planted.

 

Whatever it is, I’m grateful. And I highly recommend it. Gratitude is none too shabby, y’all.

Monday, Monday

 

 

There have been times in my life when any given Monday was my least favorite day of the week. Coming down off the weekend was depressing and the energy-drop felt like an inescapable dark cloud.

 

But that was then. These days, I relish an ordinary Monday. Take this past weekend, for example. Concert on Friday. Gallery opening on Saturday. Afternoon chick party and evening Beer Clug on Sunday. Yow-za! And please know this: all these things were awesome, in and of themselves. It just added up to a lot of commitments and doing.

 

Maybe it’s age. Honestly, I don’t care what the reason may be. I just know I appreciate the quiet predictability of Mondays. The chores, the tasks, all of it. Beautiful!

 

Here’s to Mondays, y’all!