Louise Hay’s morning meditation has my attention today: “It’s a new day. A day filled with infinite possibilities.” That always lifts my heart and brings a small, hopeful smile. Infinite possibilities.

I love the power in remembering that I get to choose what I will do with my infinite possibilities each day. It’s almost like standing at the florist, picking and choosing blooms. Do I want roses or daisies? Maybe a prickly pear? I hear they make great jelly. And honestly, I’m kind of a daisy girl myself, though roses are lovely.

The thing is, because we come from an Infinite Creator, there is something creative in us too. We don’t choose everything that happens in a day—oh goodness, no—but we absolutely choose how we meet much of it, what we do with it, and who we become through it. So this morning I’m asking myself a simple question: What do I want to create with today?

As much as I love good times, I don’t want every day to be the same. Much like a steady diet of lemon cake with frosting would eventually taste like soap and probably rot my teeth, a life with no contrast or adversity would not teach me very much. A 50/50 life is a blessing. I’m still not quite ready to call adversity my friend, but I am learning to respect what it can teach me.

Painful things happen in this world. Truly devastating things. Loss, cruelty, disappointment, and plain old meanness. We don’t have to pretend those things are good to grow through them. Some things are simply painful.

The question is not whether I can somehow make the pain good.

The question is: What will I create from here?

How will I compassionately care for myself and heal?

I look at hard experiences as the dung and dross that decay and eventually become part of the soil. Undeserved hurt is truly painful, but once it is part of our story, we get to decide what we will grow in that richly amended soil. Our Creator can help us make something from even this.

Forest growth is accelerated after fire. Weeks of rain refill an empty pond. Sunshine returns, and suddenly there are flowers where we had forgotten flowers could grow. That is creation too. It is not controlling everything that happens.

It is tending the soil we have been given and

choosing what we will plant next.

And some days? Sure, I just want to complain in the mud.

Permission to be human. Permission to grieve, stomp around a little, feel disappointed, cry, get angry, and feel all those feels. Our emotions are not mistakes. They carry information. They tell us something is happening inside us that deserves attention.

When I stay with what I’m feeling—notice it in my body, breathe, listen, and let it move—without immediately creating a whole story about what it means about me, you, God, or the rest of my life, something changes. The emotion begins to shift. My nervous system settles.

And another little bit of choice becomes available.

So—what now?

That is one of the most sacred parts of being the creator of my life experience. I cannot create every circumstance. I cannot control what everyone else does. I cannot keep every storm out of my garden. But with my Creator beside me, I can create my response. I can choose what I practice, what I nourish, what I release, what I learn, and what I plant next.

Creator-based® Tools

• Choose your feeling. Before the day gets busy, decide how you would love to feel today. I like to do this as I sit on the side of the bed before rising. Peaceful? Joyful? Curious? Confident? Take one slow breath and practice that feeling for just a moment.
• Ask, “What can I create here?” When something unexpected happens, breathe before reacting. Maybe you can create understanding, humor, a healthy boundary, or simply a calmer next step.
• Notice what went well. At the end of the day, ask yourself, “What went well today?” Small things count. A good conversation. Sunshine on your face. A task finished. A moment when you chose kindness. Going to bed at night with the things that went well that day on your mind sets your subconscious mind up positively, leading to a better tomorrow.

all my love,