What gets you up in the morning?

I had an email flurry with a long-standing friend of mine this morning. In and amongst the news catching up on, she asked me this question. It wasn't difficult to answer, but it's stayed with me since. 

I had intended to spend the day in my onesie, but the question got me up and writing in my journal, which I haven't done since the beginning of November. It got me dressed and kept me company as I mucked out the chickens and tidied up their area, something I've been meaning to do for a couple of weeks.

It's incredibly useful, being asked questions like that. It allows me to solidify my watery thinking and to mull over context and content. I've been doing an awful lot of feeling in the past few months, not a lot else. No writing, no thinking, no poetry, no art, no gardening. I have been looking after my house, looking after the cat, the chickens and me...and Dave when he lets me. 

But that question and thinking about the answer made me broaden my contracted feelings into the bigger, broader picture.

Love is the answer. Love is what gets me up in the morning.

You see, I love living here. I live in one of the most beautiful parts of the country. I wake up every morning and there's a surprise waiting for me, if I'm observant enough to look. Yesterday, I woke up to two magpies arguing over breakfast outside my bedroom window. Today, I woke up to Rummy purring. I'd overslept and he thought he'd try the subtle route to get to his breakfast. Before I open my eyes, I become aware of Jenga crowing. 

I put my onesie on, my Uggs and the pleasure I get from starting the grinder, putting on the kettle for my coffee and going out to let the chickens out....it's hard to describe. I drink my coffee and catch up on Facebook. I get to catch up with people all across the world! We gossip and moan and put the world to rights.

I laugh every day.

Sometimes it's a chuckle, sometimes it's a big belly laugh. 

My velociraptors and Rummy make me laugh so much. 

Z is nearby and she keeps an eye on me. Her cat Eloise, likes to come visit. She has her own place to eat in my kitchen. She and Rummy are like brother and sister, the sort that like to play rough and tumble. When Z goes visiting, I get to look after her tortoises and flock of bantams. 

I'm thinking of the coming growing season. I'm thinking of tomatoes, onions, potatoes, leeks and cauliflowers. Do I want to grow squash again? What about peppers? And of course, will I have time to tend them? 

My Boy is on the other end of the phone. We don't have a dedicated time to talk. Somehow, he always makes me laugh. He's finishing off his degree with determination and grit. I'm not worried for him. He's playing with plans for after university. The only thing I've told him, is that whatever he choses to do, it must be fun. It must excite him.

I also have tentative plans for myself. I have a novel to finish, poetry to write, paintings to bring into this reality. I also want more learning. I want to become a Core Process Psychotherapist. How I manage that, I still haven't figured out. When the time is right, I will. 

Life is hard right now. Not "challenging" or "interesting" or whatever else euphemisms get to be used. It's really hard. But it's also good.