H,
There is this sting in Mondays. All things are mostly repetition on this
plane, but Mondays feel like the height of the disease. The thought of it is
harder than the living it out, though. It is more like any other day than we would
like to imagine. It turns and spins on this idea that there is little joy in
the drudgery of daily life and work. This is not true, of course. Like most
things, it is a matter of perspective or the state of the heart.
I know I am guilty of always trying to rush through the most unpleasant
parts of my day. I am trying to stop this. I want to dwell in everything. I am
not saying look for pain but when something is unavoidable, to find the joy in
it. Joy is mostly the realization that the worst moments will pass and there is
an eternal sunrise to come. Seen in this light, Mondays are not the terrible
and awful ordeal that they seem. They are just another day to tick off as we march
toward that blessed renewal to come.
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