Begin the song exactly where you are,

Remain within the world of which you’re made.

Call nothing common in the earth or air,

Accept it all and let it be for good. . .

~Excerpt from “Singing Bowl,” Mathew Guite

First thought upon waking: It’s not just a new day. It’s the new day I’ve been waiting for. It’s the first day waking into a new leadership. Release, relief. I walked to the river, and I saw the striped blue and white sky there and was glad. There was new ice, it was quite cold and my cheeks chilled and my hands started to freeze, but I didn’t want to put on my gloves because I wanted my hands free for taking some pictures. And I took quite a few pictures but only kept the one of the riversky, and that was okay. I went to my morning poetry workshop and had some positive feedback on my revision. A few more issues to solve, but I didn’t have time to work on it today. I finished preparing for my evening workshop for the New England Poetry Club: A Writing Prompt from a Favorite Bowl. Then I made a roaring fire in the late afternoon and sat next to its crackle and heat. The workshop tonight was, well, gorgeous. Just what I was hoping for from the writing that was shared. So many lovely bowls were brought and shown. Wonderful drafts exploring bowls, and I was grateful for the nourishment. I gave the workshop I was hoping to give and I brought my singing bowl and made it sing.