"Early Morning Gratitude" (Image & Text Copyright Wylddane Productions, LLC)
“The soul is not where it lives, but what it loves.”
~Patricia Nell Warren
It rained last night. It rained all night. And as I sit here this morning, the rain continues—a steady whisper against the windowpane. Outside, the forest is cloaked in mist and shadows. The trees seem to lean into the moment, softened by the gray hush of a rainy morning. It is dark, it is gloomy. And yet—inside—it is anything but.
A fire crackles in the hearth, sending gentle waves of warmth across the room. A lamp glows with golden light, and on the table beside me, a mug of hot coffee steams beside an open book. Classical music flows through the stillness—Saint-Saëns, Tchaikovsky—providing a soundtrack to this quiet, contemplative hour.
There is something about mornings like this that make me both reflective and introspective. The past, with all its layered memories, seems to hover closer on days such as this. I welcome it. The memories are part of the fabric of who I am. Yet I do not live there. I am here. In this moment. In this room. On this rainy Saturday morning. And I am grateful.
This peaceful moment holds a truth I often return to: gratitude begins not in grand declarations, but in quiet awareness. The scent of coffee. The softness of firelight. The way music can reach into your soul and loosen the knots of yesterday. These are the simple treasures that shape a life well lived.
Dr. Wayne Dyer wrote, “Spend time close to home in awe over the simple treasures that make up your life.” That line echoes in my heart today. Awe, not just appreciation. A sacred recognition that ordinary moments are, in fact, extraordinary.
As I sit here, trying to give shape to these feelings with words, I’m reminded of something else I’ve come to understand: my joy comes from writing. My father was a gardener—hands in the earth, nurturing growth from seed to bloom. I have two dear friends who are gardeners of flowers and food. I, in my own way, am a gardener too. A gardener of words.
Patricia Nell Warren once called herself a “wordsmith,” but I like to think of myself as someone who tends to language with care—coaxing words into bloom, hoping they take root in a reader’s heart. When I’m writing, truly writing, I feel a deep and centered peace. I feel happy.
Dr. Dyer also said, “Expand your reality to the point where you pursue what you love doing and excel at it.”
Yes. This is my Saturday intention. To write. To reflect. To grow. To pursue what brings joy, not only to myself but perhaps, in some small way, to others.
Outside, the rain still falls. But inside, I feel the firelight of gratitude—steady, warm, and quietly glowing.
~Wylddane
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