Into the Moment

I walked out the door and the warmth immediately struck me. A dampness hung in the air. At some point during the night, a brief, light shower must have fallen. Not a soaking rain, just enough of a misting to tease the grass and let it know that yes, spring is coming. Shed your dead brown hue and turn green again.

Ah, glorious, wondrous spring.

I wasn’t in this good of a mood when I got up. And as I stood on the corner awaiting the bus, staring at This D*mn House, mentally noting the 101 of its jobs that await me, I rebelled against the feeling. A full-court, strong-arm push back against feeling good.

What is my problem? Here is a perfectly glorious day in the making (50-something at 6:45 in the morning, thankuverymuch) and I’m standing here, himming and hawing about things that mean absolutely nothing in the grand scale of it all and that I can certainly do nothing about right now.

Girl, get over yourself already. Seriously.

And then it occurred to me. It’s FRIDAY.

And a Friday with a projected high of 74 degrees.

And I’m standing, staring at a house that, for all of its flaws, I own –at a time when others stare at theirs, just hoping they’ll be able to scrape enough money together to keep walking across the threshold.

And I’m waiting on a bus to go to my job. A job I love most days, at a time when so many others don’t even have one at all.

And I’m tired. And that’s a good thing because it means I’ve been working, my days are full again, overflowing sometimes, and that is about as much job security as anyone gets anymore.

So stop fighting it. Just feel good. Breathe. Fill your lungs with the promise of spring. For once, just live in the here and the now. Be thankful for what you have and keep fighting like hell to hang onto it. In the end, that’s really all you can do anyway.

By noon, this moment may have been fleeting. (Who am I kidding? It could be gone by 10 a.m.)
But for now, it’s Friday It’s warm. The sun is coming up. I’m still gainfully employed. And spring really is coming.

Ask for nothing more. Revel in it.