Lisa Livingston

A New Door

A New Door Mornings at Clifton Beach are alive with birdsong and sounds of the Coral Sea. A kaleidoscope of sunrise reds glitter hopefully on gentle waves with the promise of another day in paradise. Perched in the mottled light of a leafy melaleuca, two kookaburras cackle raucously. It’s a private joke that they don’t share with Ella before winging inland in search of breakfast and something else to laugh at. Sitting on the slatted park bench she glances down at the journal on her lap, that indefatigable witness and keeper of her most private secrets. Every morning she writes a list of what she calls her “gratitudes” for the gifts of the previous twenty-four hours. Not just conceptual, Ella’s expressions of gratitude are a courageous ongoing practice of discipline central to maintaining a balanced mind and spirit. Today, hers is a life of abundance born of the courage to open and walk through a new more healthy door, closing it firmly on a chaotic past. Ella has learned the hard way that if she wants to be the noun, she has to do the verb.