I worry

I awake in the cool of the morning to birdsongs, and for a long moment I think of nothing. How wonderful this is. I don’t even think about how wonderful this is. I am neither happy nor unhappy. I just am.  I breath and listen. Breath and listen.

And then too quickly, the world rushes in. Of course, it does. And I worry. I worry about a person I care about who is having a hard time. I worry about Henry and his spiky fever. I worry about wildfire season and the war in Ukraine and whether Geoffrey Hinton is right and AI will destroy our species. I worry about the hard right. I worry about the drip line I ran over with the mower yesterday. I worry that my cat is mentally ill. I worry that my agent will not find a home for the new book. I worry that sometimes I forget to worry about things I should worry about. I worry that I worry too much.

And then I hear the birds. And I breath. And for a long moment, I think of nothing.

This, my friends, if you can’t hear the birds in the morning: https://insig.ht/YZyKPuvyfAb