Mornings are important. How we feel the first couple of minutes after we open our eyes can nudge us into how the rest of our day will go. Sometimes we wake up feeling groggy. Our eyes weigh more than they usually do, and getting out of bed requires unusual effort. Other times we jump out of bed, propelled by a will to life that lasts till the end of the day when we get back into bed. Or, as we sleep, deep into the wonders of our unconscious realms, where life and dream are one, a wet lick and dry prickly whiskers make their way into our fantasies. We open our eyes and the first thing we see are two black eyeballs, piercing into our souls with the tenderness and delight that only the best of friends is capable of. That was every single one of my mornings growing up with a dog.

Remember your childhood before iPhones?

We all remember the countless hours spent outdoors when we were kids. Running around the freshly trimmed grass, falling on the earth’s cushiony belly, laughing while our friends chased us around.

We remember climbing trees, pretending we were great apes discovering the strength of our limbs and the fickleness of our bodies, when at times, we fell. Grabbing a pile of blood-orange leaves laying on the ground, waiting to come back to life, through our fiery youth, and being tossed up in the air, in celebration of nature!

If I were to ask you, in your loneliest moment, one of utter despair, where merely lifting your gaze to look at the moon, in a starless night, would seem a titanic task - if you would choose to live the life you have lived, repeated innumerable times, with every sorrow, joy, disappointment, and scream —— would you grab me by the neck and squeeze with all your might for even uttering such oppressive words, or would you tenderly hold my hand, and look directly into my eyes, and say: “Yes. I would stare into the hourglass of existence, without hesitation, and profess my love for life.” If your answer to the question is closer to the former than the latter, what type of life must you live; what sort of character must you be in the drama that is your life, to accept endlessly reliving your fate, not only without reluctance, but with open arms, and peace within your soul?