“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
Checking my head and my heart each morning has become essential to my daily survival. Three hours before work, I’m on a couch sipping green tea with my dog. The weight of the world hangs heaviest just before the sun rises. It’s my most mentally chaotic time of day. Every emotion wakes-up simultaneously. I stare at the walls and listen to the neighborhood come to life. I need this time to contemplate my place in the universe. It’s when mindfulness comes easy and I’m able to bring order to chaotic feelings. The feelings aren’t going anywhere and if left untended they’ll destroy the place. I need this time to organize how I feel. When I’m done I tell myself to hope for the best that day. Some days end up great. Some days go completely fucking sideways. The cycle repeats and I’m grateful for the opportunity to try again.
Somewhere in those pre-dawn hours I realized I’ve been choosing to be miserable for a very long time. I felt the universe owed me an apology for my less than satisfactory customer experience. I set out each day intending to experience my anger to its fullest. Choosing to be angry is the same as choosing to be miserable. That realization forced me to rethink how I was spending my time. Deciding not to be angry meant I had to let go. Letting go required giving up any hope that I could fix or change the past. Giving up on fixing the past turned out to be a real challenge. I fought like hell until I realized I was just kicking the shit out of myself. I had to relent and accept that not all scars heal. The wounds are gone but the bumps and blemishes remain. The scars are evidence of a life well-lived. I wish I could take some of them back but then I wouldn’t be the person who I am today.
Every morning I begin the day with the intent of finding balance. A conscious decision to accept whatever comes at me while still hoping for the best. It’s been working more often than not and I’m still in awe of the difference. I’m learning to appreciate the story of my life in a way that wasn’t possible through eyes soaked with anger and sadness. I royally fucked some shit up along the way. But overall I won more than I lost and now I’m playing with house money. A year ago I would have said the universe owes me a refund. I ran the numbers again it turns out I’ve been extraordinarily lucky. Ergo, I’m now acutely aware of how fortunate I am to be alive. It’s funny how different the story of my life looks when I focus on the good instead of the bad. I took the scenic route to reach that conclusion, but late is better than never.
