Where Gratitude Grows, Joy Follows

Previously

…But as I looked at them, a small, almost imperceptible shift occurred. The Inner Voice was still there, its whispers still audible, but for the first time this morning, they didn’t feel quite so absolute. They were just whispers, after all. And perhaps, I thought, as I turned away from the counter and towards the light streaming through the window, perhaps I could learn to hear other voices, too. Voices of quiet appreciation, of simple presence, of growing gratitude. The journey was just beginning, and the path, I suspected, would be paved with many such mornings, where the light warred with the shadows, and the choice of which to embrace would be mine alone.