Lemonade

I suppose I won't make my deadline. I had sort of loosely planned to post every Tuesday...but here we are with one minute left. And while I'm breaking rules, albeit my own, I may as well say what's on my mind: things kind of suck right now. I've had quite a few curveballs thrown at me in the last year or so. I won't go into specifics. I often console myself with the thought: ItCouldBeWorse, or WhenLifeGivesLemonsMakeLemonade, or (and this one is the worst) WhenGodClosesADoorHeOpensAWindow. OK, in truth, only the first thought offers me consolation. The second just makes me feel like a failure, and the third--alright, you got me: I don't think of that one at all. I used to get pissed when God would close a door because, goddammit, I didn't want to squeeze through some second-rate-dregs-He-calls-windows. But for the last couple years I haven't even given God credit for any doors or windows or any other way to get for outside to inside, or whatever. I'm tired of analyzing why things happen.

I really try to keep a Big Picture kind of perspective, like when I look back on this moment in my life, I'll think it turned out ok. Things aren't REALLY that bad; I have all the basic necessities, and I'm healthy and alive--and I love life. It's good: the plants, the food, the friends...so what's the problem?

I try to appreciate the good stuff and just focus on that, I try to walk that fine line of working toward a goal and still living here and now, and I try with every fibre of me to hold at bay the worried whispers--the anxious what-ifs--but it's not enough. I always want to be impervious to the worry and the anxiety. Here's the truth: I live in it like it's a part of me, like the "red dirt" from Mr Tate's spooky poem. The what-if's have seeped in, uninvited, and I have learned to tolerate them and listen to them. I prepare for their coming to fruition, so I won't be surprised.