The red bird fluttering against the white canvas made me pause.
My writing room has become a kind of haven I knew I needed but didn’t know how much I needed.
The boys and Seth seem to sense the sacred space it is. They enter quietly, sit peacefully, and all of us settle in for work when we step inside.
The birds outside my window remind me that it is much more than a simple work space to me. Each day I cross the threshold onto a blank page. It is up to me what I dash across the page; a splash of orange passion, a blue reflection, or a rainbow of intricacies.
A new day offers opportunities to make mistakes or get it just right. Maybe today I will create the perfectly strung sentence. Maybe I will say the exact right thing to ring true in someone’s soul. Maybe I will fail softly or loudly.
But no matter what, something beautiful will eventually arise. Because each new beginning, each crossing, leads to red wings reaching up into the trees against the white canvas. A gift.
Embracing Next 