Hello, thank you for joining me on this beautiful day!

Here, the coffee is hot, soon the weather will be too, so here’s some love from me and Chief Seeing Eye Dog Blue.

My prompt words for the day are Elation and Rumination. They’ve continuously run through my mind since waking early in the morning.

This morning, when looking up the definitions for Elation and Rumination I was surprised to find so many differing meanings. For me, the word Elation comes because I’m returning to my former, stronger, more joyful self. I sat for a few moments rolling the definitions of each one through my mind. I decided on Elation because it is an expression of joy. Joy keeps coming up everywhere I look.

I ruminated. Giving careful thought to my choices. Ruminating is something I do quite a bit before I begin to write. I had no idea however, that it was associated with an eating disorder. In my teens, I toyed dangerously with such a disorder and oddly enough, it was my father who spotted and dealt with it. Though my mother disapproved of his direct manner when confronting me one evening after I’d returned to the dinner table after one such hideous purge saying, “Are you through throwing up?” I tried to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about, but he wouldn’t have it. He shamed me for wasting food he’d worked to buy, and my mother prepared for us to eat, and effort and I never forgot it. I left off with binging and purging exchanging it for long hours of rigid exercise and loud music. Oddly enough my parents appeared less bothered by this and soon with the help of a good healthy diet and a lot of exercising as well as many hours practicing my flute, talking with my friends on the phone and spending endless summer weekends at friends’ homes, I lost all that baby fat changed my body’s shape and my mind’s focus. Had it not been for the mental illness which plagued me in my late teens and early twenties which went incorrectly treated for many dark years, I’d have gone onto play flute and go to college. I don’t blame my parents now. I realize they were operating on lack of knowledge and doing the best they knew with what they had to work with. We know now, for example, it would’ve been better for me, had I been sent to the camp, the doctor in Nashville recommended and allowed to pursue my music in any direction it took me, provided it was healthy and profitable.

This was not to be. Over time and many long, dark years, followed by an arduous journey back into the light, I’ve begun to learn about and find true joy.

This morning, I found two posts from a fellow blogger, expressing joy in all ways and both spoke to me quite specifically.

I find joy each time Blue comes to me with a wag and his ball tucked firmly between his teeth. His enduring GRR! Noises coming to me from the deepest part of his heart.

I find joy in my words, and joy in my art and most importantly, I find joy in my spirit and soul.

I’d lost my joy to the negative cloud hanging over top this place in which we live. Now, I’ve cast it away by use of yesterday’s strong breezes, awakening this early morning with a fleeting feeling of disorientation from having returned so swiftly to my body from traveling on the various planes of existence. Quickly swept away by the joy of having come through the fog back into the light.

Now, I await the sunrise. I long for the spring breeze to kiss my sleep warmed skin. Soon, Blue and I will venture out into the morning’s early dawning exploding with the sounds of many birds singing. A wing on the wind.

Blessid be to the morning.

Blessid be to the day.

Blessid be to the glory, the glory with which I greet this beautiful day.



About Patty L. Fletcher

Patty L. Fletcher lives in Kingsport Tennessee where she works full time as a Writer with the goal of bridging the great chasm which separates the disAbled from the non-disAbled. She is Also a Social Media Marketing Assistant.


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