Dear God, I awaken. I anticipate the day. I do so imperfectly. Shadowy figures loom around me, milling and murmuring. What will happen? What will I do? What will befall me? Who will visit?
Lord, this world is not the world.
I have built a fantasy peopled with cartoons drawn of mist. My mind casts forward through the day and nothing is clear, all is dim, yet my feelings in anticipation are vivid and present. I fear loosely imagined conflict. I equally look forward to undefined happiness. Sitting alone in my rooms, my world consists of feelings, none of which are anchored in reality.
Lord, tether me. Root me in this present moment. It is all the world I have.
Let me stand and walk to meet all comers, greeting them with a smile and good cheer.