I cannot see the changes that are taking place within me. But I feel them. Today, I feel them. At last. Feeling like a proud parent of a newborn, the words slept through the night are giving me great joy this morning. Ah, the little things that mean so much.
It seems such a long time that I've set out in the early morning, but this morning for a short time I returned, with the car, the paper and Cheyenne. I was so excited to get outside, to feel like being outside at the hour. Sitting at a picnic table in my neighborhood park, I breathed it all in, watching the sunlight cut a broad gold path across the wet grass, and seeing all around me the bright green leaves breaking out of the bare tree limbs. I could not see the wind, could not see the fragrance of the flowers floating on the air. I cannot see what exactly is changing in me. But I see the evidence of these invisible things, and its enough to make me know they exist. The substance of life within me and around me is so evident, so real and beautiful. Being outside this morning was like receiving the greatest help available to me; invisible, but more real than tangible.