This is where Daisy sits. If anyone is cooking, she is there. Never mind that she fills the only passage from the kitchen to the pantry. Its her spot, she's got a job to do, and that's how we like it.

I had high hopes when we moved back home from our four years in Texas. I had looked forward to coming home for years. But, after all that time wasted waiting, things didn't go well for me when we arrived. My best friend from my whole life got sick and died, but not before betraying me profoundly. My relationship with my family devolved unexpectedly and thoroughly. Things got challenging in a complicated way, very. About five years in, I started to feel pretty dark inside as the unrelenting certitude of reality simply wasn't lightening for me. As a young woman I was fairly easy going. In the mire, I was facing middle age, time was slipping past, and easy seemed nowhere.

I felt like the pressure was making me sick. I kept trying to wait out the pain thinking things would surely change, but reality is steadfast. As a dear friend pointed out long ago, "gravity never forgets and, for instance, lets a teacup float off the table." We might call this the tyranny of how things are. John Green points out, "Life is not a wish granting factory." Life is hard, consistently so. But that's not the whole story.

Its also true that Daisy is in the galley, here for me and my beautiful family. I could list one million other obvious details, a list of proof written in the tiniest font forming a circle around and down the length of my arm. My life is amazing, blessed beyond counting. I felt so dark yet everywhere I looked I found nothing changeable I wanted to change. The only thing that needed to change was inside me. Which might be the biggest blessing of all, as your insides are the only thing you can change. Because your insides are wholly made of your perception.

If you don't figure it out, the time of your life will evaporate around you and be gone. You will have lived in a fog, seeing nothing, often feeling lost and alone.

I have nothing original to tell. I began to practice about a year ago. Starting small at first, by noticing how lucky I was to get to ride in a car to work in the morning. By noticing I had enough to eat. By noticing my children. By noticing the love and support of my husband. By noticing what turned out to be everything, other than my own inner darkness. Whispering gratitude for what turned out to be everything, my life changed. I changed my mind.