Easy like Sunday Morning

Easy...Easy like Sunday Morning...

Sorry for any unintentional earworm; that song still beats the “Que Sera, Sera” that I woke up to. It's also better than the other Lionel Richie songs that have been tormenting me all week!

But this morning was easy (it certainly helped that my headache was gone). I woke up to a quiet house with the sun shining through the windows. Neither of my girls are here, so I can walk around wearing whatever I’d like and there are no immediate “have-to-dos” until I’m ready to do them. For the first time in almost 2 years I went out on my porch with my coffee and sat there a long while. I did it a lot the first summer I moved in, but then my friend Don passed…and many things happened all at once making it hard to have any kind of relaxing mornings. I’m not a morning person, either, which also makes a difference.

I’d like to thank Mother Nature for this morning as well. It feels like summer today. I remember two weeks ago stepping outside one morning and feeling that change in the air; it felt like a school morning, the beginning of those days where you need a jacket in the mornings and evenings, and I remember cursing that summer was already over. I needed summer today. Thank you.

I stayed out on the porch for a long time, quietly, feeling the sun on my back and shoulders. Almost like meditating, I thought, which reminded me that I was going to try it again this week. Maybe I can do it without falling asleep this time.

And I thought…and thought. Without hurt or anger. Without beating myself up about anything (that alone is an accomplishment). I just enjoyed my coffee and my porch. My porch. I have a great job now that’s allowing me to keep it.

I went to a friend’s house the other night.

--Have I mentioned yet that I have the best friends? I do. And I can’t say enough to anyone out there, male or female: surround yourself with true friends. You will always feel love.

Anyway, I was able to pull my head out of my ass long enough to talk about my job. I noticed that. I was wary of spending any one-on-one time with anyone, because I talk (and write) about whatever’s first on my mind—and at the time, I was so sick of my own thoughts that I was afraid I wouldn’t talk about anything but what was bothering me. So it was nice to talk about something I felt positive about. The whole evening was very nice—and needed. And then another night by the fire with my best friend (and her father) while our daughters played together. My conversation was not as productive, but the company was still awesome. So was the music, the food, and the wine.

While I was sitting out on the porch my new neighbor from across the street went out to his car. He gives me a chuckle every time I see him. He and his girlfriend moved in less than five months ago. They’re not very social. He must work from home because I see him all the time. He must forget (and have) a lot of things in his car, because that’s all I see him do—go out to his car, get something and go back inside. The real funny part is how he dresses; socks with sandals, some type of plaid (or patterned) shorts that always hang low—not like the low pants that the kids wear today; it’s more like he just forgot to pull them up (or maybe he threw them on just to go out to his car), and a white T-shirt that doesn’t fit properly. He looks like the hung-over college kid who is always passed out on someone’s couch, even when he is standing up.

Not that I’m totally one to judge; since I started working from home my ‘attire’ –even when I leave the house for a quick errand—could be considered…questionable.

I just gave myself a chuckle there.

I have to work on acceptance. And patience. I really, really, really, hate that fucking word. I cannot control anything or anyone, other than myself (and even that is questionable at times). But I still have everything that I need, and I do want what I already have. I’m grateful that I’m quiet today, and that I’m able to be (it doesn’t usually happen), even if there is a tinge of sadness about all of it. Okay, more than a tinge—but I’m still here. Will any of this matter five years from now? (laughing at myself for that one). Yes. Maybe not in the way I had hoped, but whatever positive work I do now on myself now will make me better later. I may not even be here five years from now; I learned that from Don, Maria, and Mark. So while I’m working on myself I will remind myself to also live, and enjoy what I have. And to try to stop beating myself up. I’m not perfect—or not the way I want to be. But I’m perfectly me (I’ll appreciate that later).

I’m grateful for my porch. I’m grateful for my friends. I’m grateful for my family. I’m grateful for music. I’m grateful for my job. I’m grateful for you. I’m grateful for my wonderful daughters who I hope will grow up to be more adjusted and confident than I was or am (even just a little will be an improvement). And, of course, I’m grateful for coffee.

I’m grateful for how I feel right at this moment. I hope any steps backward I take don’t take me too far back from this point right now. I hope for nothing specific outside of that.

I guess this means it’s time for me to move on…or just move. Just keep taking steps. It’s all a dance, right? Move side to side, forward or back. Be light on your feet and try not to step on anyone’s toes. Spin in circles, but only to enough break things up without making yourself dizzy. Allow for mis-steps, but keep dancing. Even if you trip and fall, get back up. And enjoy the music, whatever song (happy or sad) is playing.

Thanks for listening.