My first thought this morning: I don't have to be afraid of anything.
And for some reason, immediately thought of this day, four years ago. Thought about the most selfish thing I've ever done, which was also the most perfect thing: a gift to myself. And I could say that it was only a gift to myself, but I know that wasn't true.
Again, I felt the cool wind off the river, which made the tiny blossoms and fluffs of Minnesota spring dance in the air. Walking across bridges and anywhere; an almost unbearable sense of life. Concert upon concert, a musical heartbeat replacing my own.
Almost as quickly, my brain skipped backward to the dry and scorching days of late May in Arizona. My first camera, blossoming cactus, dark skies and star-filled nights standing on the roof of the house, hearing music from other rooms, other worlds, a life that I hadn't yet discovered. And joining in, I danced in the dark, kicking up the dry grass with my bare feet, a child whirling, airborne, willing herself into the universe.
It was awesome.
It is, still, awesome.
Go listen to some good music: "Dreamline" from the album Roll the Bones by Rush.