Some days it's enough to be grateful for the dawn. Especially the morning after a night that found me cocking my ear toward the dragon lady who lives in a cave in my mind, lying in the dark, patiently waiting for me to stumble so she can spring up and assure me, her voice a cocktail of spurious sweetness, that it's not too late to swap my dreams of a creative life for some easier, simpler, more practical future.
Because while the dawn isn't the antidote to doubt exactly, morning light exposes that dragon for the vampire she is. And because even though the dragon spent last night pointing to all the years I've written in obscurity as proof of my total failure, in the light of day those same years look a bit more like tenacity. And though I may have drifted to sleep convinced I was a washed up wannabe, something in the dawn reminded me that failures fuel spunk, that there's fight in me yet, and that even when the sun takes the weekend off, it's out there, doggedly fighting to burn its way through. That the dawn is the dawn is the dawn. Even when it's gray.
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So true. Unfortunately, I rarely see the dawn these days, as I seem to only be able to sleep late! :)
ReplyDeleteI just stumbled randomly onto here....This post makes me ridiculously happy. Thank you. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd random commits about ridiculous happiness make ME ridiculously happy, too.
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