Life, Work & Wonder

Tag: Hope

  • How much I love sunny Seattle July mornings.

    How much I love sunny Seattle July mornings.

    They are magical in that they transport me back to my youth before I graduated college, not so much in the memories but in the feelings which then also elicit some memories.

    I remember waking up as a kid, pulling on shorts and a t-shirt, eating a bowl of cereal, and then feeling like the rest of the day was mine. When I was younger I ventured out into the neighborhood (which we could do in the 70s), and when I was a little older we’d play baseball or basketball. Sometime around 4pm, my parents or grandparents would take the cover off the pool and then we’d all swim.

    In college, July was a break from classes. I’d usually work a meaningless hourly job that ended when my shift ended. And then two things would happen: either I’d love that job and would have a terrific summer, or I wouldn’t like the job and that would make me look forward to returning to classes again.

    But those are the memories. And it’s not the memories that make July mornings awesome. It’s the feelings.

    July in Seattle is sunny. And not usually too hot. So much of the year in Seattle is gloomy. Which creates heaviness and foreboding in my spirit. But in July? In the morning? I’m rested from a day of sleep. And the sky is clear. And the sun is fresh, and still behind the trees.  And my spirit just feels sooooo free. And suddenly I feel like anything good is possible. Anything I want to accomplish is possible.

    For me, July is hope. It’s a happiness drug. And I love it so much. Like a drug.

    Sometime soon the summer will start to come to a close. But for now we’re in the heart of it. It’s a sunny mild morning in July. And the world just feels so amazing.

    I’m so happy right now.

  • Some Days All We Can Do Is The Best That We Can

    Some days all we can do is fight best we can!

    I have chronic fatigue that I try my best on a daily basis to fight through. And some days are worse than other days. Today is one of the worser days.

    Larissa woke me up at 8:30am. I was in a deep sleep and dreaming so deeply. And here we are six hours later and I’m so tired. Which makes me so unmotivated. But there is a house to run. And bills that need to be paid since I’m not independently wealthy. Which means I have to try my hardest to soldier on.

    In spite of everything, I think I’m doing okay. I did the dishes and changed the sheets on the bed and did three loads of laundry. I wrote a blog post, I coordinated a pest control call, I prepared for and then had one interview, scheduled a second interview. Now I’m starting to turn my attention back to real estate like I’m supposed to.

    There was a time when it wasn’t hard at all to move. My ex-wife used to tease me like that US Army commercial: “You do more before 9am than most people do all day.” Except that was 25 years ago. Today, 15 years after lung disease and 15 years into Ankylosing Spondylitis, I barely am out of bed before 9 am. And all day long is a battle to stay productive. But whether I succeed or fail, I can honestly look in the mirror and say I do my best. Even when I’m laying down (as I’ve done twice today) I’m hollering at myself inside to get up, to get moving, to keep fighting. Which is why I’ve been able to get (as little) done as much as I’ve gotten done by 2pm today.

    Anyway. I remember reading about chronic fatigue in a magazine in the 1990s and thinking, “That must be hell.”  I had no idea that I too would someday come down with chronic fatigue. And I can indeed confirm that it’s truly hell. Except I’m doing the very best I can to pull myself out of the flames and to at least have a few good moments each day. That’s all I can do.

    Here are to good days. And here is to life. And here is to the will to fight. I wish for all of us good days, and life, and the will to perserve.