I get to wake before the rising sun and look into the hazy night; I get to watch the sunrise shape the day, filling it with light.

I get to move my body from the bed and feel the weight of gravity. The force of nature makes us strong, we work against its energy.

The pressure makes us question ourselves and what we’re capable of.

It’ll make us stop and fall.

No matter how many times I stumble, I get to rise again. Try again. Fly again. 

I get to feel the aches and healing, what it means to have a body. Each day provides a chance to change, let go, and challenge what we know.

I get to shake the cobwebs of my dreams with peaceful sounds and heartfelt words, thoughts that help me see this earth as meaningful with every turn.

I get to watch the coffee brew and listen to its lovely tune. The bitter liquid brings me joy to watch it fall and gather — its rich and earthy scent means morning, possibility, creation — drifting through the window on a fresh winter breeze.

I get to walk with two legs, feel them burn, and breathe the morning air.

The colors of the passing flowers cause my heart to smile — we see them every day — red, blue, yellow, orange; the natural world is beautiful, even when the sky is grey. Sometimes, especially. 

I get to sit in traffic and listen to music, instead of speeding through the time. With other people going somewhere, I sing and bust a rhyme.

I get to go to work at a restaurant where I interact with people from all over — different from me, helping to cultivate patience and gratitude.

I’m wearing a mask but I see the sincerity in your eyes; when frustration rears its head, I hope to speak from the heart instead.

I get to learn about my co-workers through small talk and long days. Both of us could be anywhere, but we are here, slowly learning about one another, what’s brought us to this point, and where we hope to go.

I get to laugh! I get to cry — I get to learn and wonder why. I did the things that I have done, no matter what, I’m having fun. Because life won’t ask before it takes, before it hurts us, seldom makes —

Sense or goes according to the script. So how will we act, will we improvise? Cherish the growth that makes us wise.

Don’t have to wake and face the day.

Don’t have to have the final say.

Don’t have to smile despite the pain. Don’t have to feel the pain, the profound pain which makes us human. 

Don’t have to watch the setting sun, which came and went and now is done; I get to.

We get to. We get to be alive — the choice is ours to live.