Most mornings begin the same.

I wake up in pain.

Maybe that’s not what you expected to hear…
but it’s my reality right now.

The pain comes from surgery… from healing…
from a body still finding its way back.

And still—
I get up.

Because I’ve decided…

to become stronger
so I can finally do the things
I’ve wanted to do for decades.

And then… my day begins.

My routine now is both physical and mental—
a quiet check-in with myself
to see how I’m really doing.

Stretching and exercise are a must.
Every day.

This is how I start to understand what my day will be like. I begin to understand what my body will allow. I also learn what it needs.

If the sun is out and the air is warm,
being outside is a must.
I’m drawn to it—
to the calm,
to the light,
to Mother Nature.

And if the day is cold or rainy,
I turn inward.

That’s when I write…
journal…
or lose myself in my mixed media art.

My thoughts during the day are always busy.

I listen to music…
audiobooks…
sometimes a podcast.

There’s always something playing—
something that keeps my mind engaged.

If it’s an errand day,
I map it out in a circle,
starting and ending at home—
always after my routine of stretching and exercise.

Lists are a must.
They help everything move more smoothly…
and keep me grounded.

I’m usually out no more than three to four hours
before I return home
to eat,
to rest,
to reset.

My late afternoons are reserved for that—
resting both physically and mentally.

Those quiet moments…
they’re not optional anymore.
They’re a necessity in my life.

Depending on the season,
I sit and watch the birds
gather at their feeders.

I chuckle softly. I find myself watching the squirrels. They are hanging upside down, swinging with their tails, doing everything they can to reach their food.

Writing has found its way into my days in more ways than I ever expected.

I start my mornings with a written calendar. I use it not just to see what needs to be done. I also use it to understand what I’m capable of that day.

It holds more than appointments…
it holds how my days feel, too.

Journaling has become part of my life—
in different forms,
at different moments.

Some pages hold the harder days…
some hold progress…
and some hold quiet achievements I’ve learned to recognize.

There are times I create…
art journals,
pieces in progress…
spaces that feel like mine.

The writing reaches beyond me. It’s my manuscript. It’s my way of helping others understand what it’s like to live in my world.

Somewhere along the way,
I’ve come to realize…

that writing isn’t just something I do.

It’s something that has helped my mind work again…
heal…
and grow.

This is what my days look like now.

Slower…
more aware…
and filled with things that matter in ways I didn’t understand before.

I’m not trying to return to who I was anymore.

I’m learning to live…
right here…
as the person I’m becoming.