A few years ago I took on the habit of making my bed every morning. This sounds routine enough, but for me it was an expression of an evolution in thought.
Healing
When I was over-identified with being an executive, I kept all types of foolishness on my bed- laptops, chargers, clothes, books, food, shoes- anything that I was too tired to move to its appropriate place was thrown onto the bed. It was a wonder that I could sleep at all, but then again I had to take a sleeping aide to get me through most nights.
I was also in denial about being overweight, about my snappy tempter and my poor eating habits. Everything in those days was about my work position, which threw my position in my real, spiritual life out of alignment.
Gratitude
I have great compassion for who I was in the days when I didn’t make my bed, when my anger went haywire at a moment’s notice, and when I sat in one spot looking at my phone all weekend due to depression and exhaustion. That part of me never gave up. That part of me knew that there was a better life available, even if I didn’t quite know how to get there.
When I was unceremoniously fired from my executive position, I found my path to the light. Somewhere around that time (perhaps when I was returning all of the equipment from my job that I no longer needed), I started to clean all the clutter from my bed. Even when my room was still a bit messy, my bed was always made. My made up bed became a symbol of daily re-birth. No matter what happens during the day, whether I conquer the world or fall short of my goals, I began my day with the intention of giving it my best, as symbolized by making my bed.
Love
Now when I make my bed each morning, it is from a place of gratitude. I am thankful for the day before, for a peaceful night of sleep (without a sleeping aide) and for the opportunity to climb a little higher each day. I am grateful that I have made room for myself in my own life and in my own bed. I am grateful for who I was then and who I am becoming now.
And so it is.
Breathe.Gratitude.Love. 
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