Breathe in the cool sweetness of early morning air, as I am quietly coaching myself back to center, back to the breath, and back to home. Filling the handmade artisan mug for maybe the 20th time this morning, from a fresh pot of rich black coffee, I take to outside into the softness of first light. Warm mug in hand, bare feet in cool grass, bedhead and bathrobe to the garden I go. The dew greets me like a welcome friend, gently moistening and protecting seedlings and tender hearts from the heat and unknown of the day ahead. I pause here. I open my eyes and really see the dew lacing the edges of leaves, smell the freshly tilled earth, feel my feet in the wet grass, and my heart a softly opening rosebud revealing it’s pungent sweet perfume.


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