I'm looking at the blaze of fall colors in the woods through the picture window in my kitchen. I bought my house because of this window and this kitchen, and that decision has never once disappointed me. It is where decisions are made, work is done, friends gather and family shares... not just meals but laughter, wisdom and sometimes tears.
Today I'm having difficulty leaving my kitchen. It's warm and smells cinnamony good. It's safe here with no one to face but myself, though I am arguably my toughest critic. It's one of those days where my body refuses to cooperate. I feel I've little to offer to others right now, I can't crawl out of this time and space, and that there's not much to which I can look forward.
Sometimes a little glimmer is all I need, but it's simply not there today. However, if I look long and hard out my window the sunlight will undoubtedly catch one of those leaves in just the right way, glimmering, shimmering hope in the corner of my eye, and I'll suddenly remember how good it feels to feel good.