Every morning is a fresh start.

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There is a certain, quiet joy in the light of the morning. If it was only a matter of angle-of-incidence, then the light of the evening would be the same as the light of the morning. It is not. I wonder why? Perhaps it’s because the morning light signals - new, while the evening light signals – gone. That’s part of it, but not all.

The morning light is served with fresh air. The evening light shuffles in with tired air.

Yes, of course, Sunsets can be glorious, but Sunsets happen only before the darkness falls. That’s why Sunsets are used to signal, ”The End”, while mornings usually signal, “In the beginning”.

“Wake up and smell the coffee”. Open the windows. Live!

Mornings are an invitation. After the, “little death”, of sleep, morning unfolds like

a flower to embrace the Sun. What goodness might this new day bring?

Some disagree. They embrace the night. They will not be persuaded otherwise. Bless them, all. They will have to write their own essay. I was once one of them. Now I’m not. I’m

not sure why. It’s not because I have any youthful enthusiasm left. I don’t. I’m old. I know better. Still, there is some glory in a ravaged thing that has been restored. It may be little, it won’t last, but it’s something. Every morning has some such quality to it. It is hope, or the image thereof.

I embrace that. Not because I have illusions, but because I don’t.

Without hope our lives would not be worth living. Every suicide tells us so.

I regard every man I meet as a gentleman, and every woman as a lady - until they prove they are not. If I did not do that, I would live my life in cringing suspicion. It’s not a matter of naivete. It is a matter of survival. Hope provides dignity, and opportunity. Without it, we would all lead the uncivilized lives Hobbes described as,” Nasty, solitary, brutish, and short”.

I say, embrace the morning light, embrace hope, count your blessings, and ignore despair.

It won’t cost any more than you’re already paying.

By K. L. Shipley

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