With nothing on my lips but Hallelujah

So far this has been a year of movement, speed, distance, breadth and depth. Which is to say: it’s been a hell of a ride, and I am giddy kind of all the time these days.  My life is hardly recognizable from what it was even six months ago. And I spend a lot of time being caught off guard by this. The other night I flipped through a journal I was keeping in 2007, and even though I obviously remember what was going on then (I was there, after all), it was still bizarre to see how much the narrative has changed. I am working harder than I’ve ever worked, and yet everything is so much easier than it used to be.

It’s simple: every day, I get to do what I love, what I’m good at.  I get to be, well, me: that squinting kid in the picture up there.  I have the luxury of choosing what types of people and organizations I work with. And I’m surrounded by an assortment of amazing, kick-ass people, both at home and via the internet. It sounds trite, but I mean this quite literally: every day feels like a gift to me.

And it’s funny what that feeling does to a person.  It may be best to confirm this with Mr. Gibson, but I do believe I’m more easygoing, more forgiving, less suspicious, less angry. I don’t mean to imply that I’ve had some sort of grand awakening or anything, just that I have so much more mental space now that I am able to work with what I have, what I am, instead of trying to mold myself into something else. I wish that every person on earth had the chance to feel this way, but I know that most people won’t; they’re busy just surviving. I am one of the lucky ones.

So I’m going to continue to count my blessings and enjoy the ride.

Thanks for sharing it with me.