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Gracie lies in the sunny spot.

As I sit in my writing room, my muse curls up next to me. But the sun slowly drifts away from her every twenty minutes or so.

She opens her eyes when she realizes she is in darkness. She sighs. She looks around for where the sun has gone. Ah, it’s over there now, by the chair.

She’s been in a deep sleep, so getting up takes some effort. She shakes, stretches the front legs, then the back legs and moves over to the sun.

She digs, twirls and gets her spot just right. It takes effort. It takes time. Sometimes she will settle and the light will be too directly in her eyes. She needs to adjust again.

But it’s worth it. It’s worth the time and effort to move out of the darkness and into the light. She only needs to be aware that it’s time to shift. She is not annoyed that the sun doesn’t stay on her permanently, she will sacrifice some energy to make it better for herself. She doesn’t wallow in the shadows. She just shifts.

She knows the light is still there, it’s just in a slightly different place.

She knows she can find it again.

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