On Sunday evening a post service discussion worked it's way around to hair-styling and the brand of hair-straighteners called GHD... which I eventually twigged meant 'good hair day'.  I commented that I had no desire to iron my hair, thanks all the same, and that in my world, every day is a Good Hair Day because I have hair.  It is in an interesting phase at the moment.  If I brush and blow dry it, it nearly does what the hairdresser decided, and is more-or-less straight; however, if I wash and leave it, or if I go out in the damp air without a hat, it reverts to chemo curls.  Mostly, I feel I look like an 'extra' from Call the Midwife; I find this entertaining.  But straight or curly, every day is a good hair day.

In fact, every day is a good day.  No, I haven't morphed into Pollyanna, I can acknowledge the bad bits and the struggles and so on, just that every day has the potential for good too.

Yesterday involved a lot of waiting.  And I began to appreciate how much my sermonising on active waiting is impacting my thinking.  This was not time wasted, it was time given; it was not time to be wished away, it was time to be savoured.  I read a lot of posters, I eavesdropped a fair few conversations, I pondered various things, I even did some praying ;-).  Not the plan for the day, life being what happens whilst you make other plans, but it was a day in which I glimpsed good things.

Just for the record, in case anyone wonders...

In my world:

Every day is a good hair day

Every birthday is a celebration

Every day is a gift and therefore a good day