Sunrise isn't for another 45 minutes or so.
I've got a beautifully long day ahead of me, filled with work, writing, and podcasting until midnight or so.
I feel positively wealthy with time.
I love this feeling. I love waking up, rested, and feeling like an empty vessel waiting to be filled. I have only the loosest sense of what the day will bring. Anything could happen.
I was saying to a friend on Twitter yesterday, who was lamenting some currently-and-possibly-soon-to-be-happening misfortunes that uncertainty is what makes life beautiful.
Sure, there are some "very-likelies" - like if you take a breathe in, and hold it, it's pretty likely that you'll be exhaling next. Shove yourself off your chair. Pretty likely, you'll meet the floor, next. But those things are trivial, tiny. In the bigger expanse of your life, things are positively vague. I remember when I was in high school, and looking at colleges, I told my mother I had no interest in the Washington, DC area. I insisted there was simply no way I would wind up there.
I've lived here for over 20 years now.
There are these two Lao-tzu quotes I adore, that speak to the beauty of uncertainty, and what it means for one's life.
"If you do not change direction, you may wind up where you are heading"
"When I let go of what I am, I become that which I may yet be."