6:15am – Wake up.
6:30am – Run.
7:45am – Stretch and shower.
8:15am – Walk and feed dog.
8:30am – Prep lunch for work and have breakfast.
9:10am – Walk to work.
10:00am to 6:00pm – Work.
6:00pm – Walk home.

A schedule always seems methodical when formatted like that. But, like this, it’s deprived of emotion and can’t be trusted. In between the lines there’s pride and beauty.

When I wake up, it’s with Sam’s sleepy voice lulling me into wakefulness. With the earth under my heels and a morning air that reminds me what it means to be alive, I run. The deep stretch of yoga followed by a moment in meditation as cool water soaks my body leaves me clear. Each day I’m greeted by puppy cuddles and the feeling of unconditional love that my dog exudes for me with no hesitation. Warm water with lemon, fresh fruit and yogurt awaiting me is a luxury I furiously remind myself not to take for granted. Our walk to work follows the bustle of mid-town Toronto, soaking up the sun, the people, the smells of fresh produce and breads and the sense of community unavoidable in the city I know and love. Surrounded by friends and people who admire my ambition and intelligence, I’m awarded with the sense of accomplishment and pride at work that people strive for in life. I’m blessed to have an income doing something that can make a difference to the lives of animals and the people who get to call them their best friends. As I head home, the exhaustion may be wearing me thin, but the evening is beautifully inviting and my home is welcoming and I slow everything as I appreciate the day.

In finality there is peace but a sweet after-taste of what is to come. The end is rarely the end. A schedule is not merely a schedule. Timetables do not dictate monotony. Beauty is fresh and new when your eyes are open no matter the repetition.

Today I got up at 6:15am. Tomorrow I will get up at 6:15am. I can’t wait.

Cheers to a year of keeping track.