As I lay here in bed I can feel a cool breeze brush across my leg, the one leg poking out from under the covers. It feels good. I can hear a lone bird singing as the sunlight filters through the trees. It’s mid August and long gone are the many bird voices chirping away looking for some bird action.

The temperature this morning a perfect 65, a little cool for this time of year, but just the way I like it. What a nice lead in to what appears to be a day of perfect weather. Penny has already abandoned her bedside post and is in the kitchen waiting for her breakfast. Things started more slowly this morning, I have another day off from work - a gift from my boss.

I appreciate such a gift because time is that one thing there’s never enough of. More time can’t be bought, bargained or stolen. You won’t find it at the mall, grocery or Walmart. If you have millions of dollars that won’t help you to finance more. Time.

We’re born knowing we have a finite amount of time to spend here on this earthly plane while not knowing when our expiration date will be. That knowledge of knowing and not knowing can be hard to accept and can be a negative distraction as we wind our way down the path of our own lives. That is if we allow it to be so.

When I was young, very young I was aware of the fact of an expiration date and this knowledge distracted and tainted my days. For years I was in a hurry to get things done and I lived in fear. Living in fear robs you of the time you do have.

When I got my cancer diagnosis in the fall of 2007 this knowledge of life not being an unending journey could not be avoided or ignored. I believe that’s when I began to change my approach to living, first in small ways and then in a more intense fashion.

That first year after my surgery I continued to paint and draw, but did not want to “show” my work. I stayed away and enjoyed the creative process without the pressure that comes with showing your work in public. I also became more discerning about how I would spend my time. No more waste - sitting around day-after-day watching meaningless television or laying around just plain doing nothing. There are times these days that I do both, but they are short blocks of time and then I get up and walk toward what has meaning. Whether it’s spending time with family and friends, reading, writing, painting, gardening. Those are things that feed my wounded spirit and help me to grow. Time, in my view, well spent.

So this gift of another day off from my boss is a gift with infinite value and I intend to spent it wisely. But first, coffee. Thanks JD!

I was watching the Today Show this morning and happened to catch a snippet that featured Susan Boyle’s fashion layout for the September issue of Harper’s Bazaar. As I’m sure you may know, Susan Boyle is the latest, albeit unlikely, singing sensation who shocked both the audience and the judges on Britain’s Got Talent within the last few months.

I say unlikely because these days if you don’t possess a youthful, trim, attractive package you stand and unlikely chance of being embraced in a positive way by our superficial, materialistic society. If your packaging isn’t up to par, you can almost count on being dismissed without a second look. That is unless the intention is to ridicule or become fodder for late night TV’s comedy routines.

When Susan opened her mouth that night in April and belted out “I Dreamed a Dream,” mouths dropped open all around the theater - dare I say all around the world. The unfortunate unspoken shock seemed to stem from the contraction of talent verses visual presentation.

Susan’s own behavior prior to her performance seemed to indicate that she didn’t expect to be taken seriously. Funny thing is she had a trump card, an ace up her sleeve - she knew she did indeed have talent. A talent until now shared only in her local community. Now that Susan’s talent has been brought to light it seems the focus has changed from admiration of her fine voice to makeover time. Don’t get me wrong, I believe we should try to make the best of the attributes we’re born with, but my concern is that Susan’s “handlers” will place so much pressure on presenting the package that the real value inside of Susan will become secondary.

Susan isn’t alone when it comes to package pressure. Our society spends a tremendous amount of time and focus critiquing packaging and not nearly enough time nurturing, growing and appreciating what’s inside the package. The package we’re born with goes through many transformations throughout our lives. The sad thing I see happening is there seems to be value placed only on the youthful package with the aging, imperfect or out-of-shape package considered less valued, less capable, less talented.

I applaud Susan for her guts and gumption in going for her dream. I applaud all of us whose packaging isn’t what it used, but continue to find value and meaning in more profound ways. In this superficial world, I try to surround myself with people who are encouraging, supportive and loving while avoiding the judgmental, critical and insulting.

So as we watch Susan emerge from her cocoon, I pray that her passion for music and gifted voice remain her priority.  From all of us plump, middle-aged gals striving toward our dreams - Susan, you go girl!