A lone, young cat walks along the curb across the street, darts its head around-and then again, and hops onto the walk in front of his home. He keeps moving, and when reaching the lawn, races freely down the grassy hill.

Nearby, a flock of birds land in synchronicity upon the top of the tree, with all of the energy of the new day beginning.

This activity seems life in action, determined and intentional, but where and why only they know. We just watch. Oh that our lives were as free and energized as theirs.  Their purpose is now, focus is here, and the day holds adventure for which they have no worry.

 Today, run, sing, dance, fly in the freedom of the morning!  Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom-
Because that is home.

Morning is rising. The colors of the sky paint renewed hope into the spirit as blue melts into a burst of gold warming the day. There is something about the sky, this palette of Gods, that paints possibility. While seeming a ceiling, it's endless quality speaks of eternity. The day below, mundane at times, is lifted with the eyes. We are never without possibility, even holed up inside--the sky is always there. Find a window.

Through a dirty window, the brilliant sun gleams, lighting up millions of specks of what we call dust and dirt and plan to wash away. Yet for the moment, the richness and complexity of life live in those specks of varying size, shape, thickness, and composition. They remind that there is so much magnificent complexity and intricacy to this life and the genius behind it. Even that which we wipe away holds universes of creation. We would be wise to put down our analysis for a moment and let our awe linger. It will keep perspective, as we move toward solving our next problem.