If everything happens for a reason, this must be a weekend of reasons.
Today, in a light rain, I could smell the eucalyptus buttons at Glen Park, where my 15-year-old was about to play an indoor soccer game, and I hoped it would help take my mind off a range of worries that have been following me around like multiple shadows knitted to my frame.
Later in the game itself, he scored a late goal to pull his team within one in a comeback attempt. Since he is a defender, it was a long shot, from mid-court, that he knifed into the right corner of the net, eluding the keeper.
I'm not sure I've yelled that loud in a year.
It was good therapy, as I've intimated, because of some new curve balls life has thrown me.
Maybe that is what sports is good for -- taking our mind off of our troubles. If so, the highlight of this day was his goal.
***
His little brother is in Mexico on a school trip, hopefully having a wonderful time. (We have no way to communicate from here.) Friday night, about 24 hours before getting on the plane, he was pacing around my apartment in such an excited manner, it seemed as if he could barely contain himself.
At 13, with bushy red curls, he is growing taller almost before our eyes and nearly rivals his athletic brother in height now.
He packed lots of books for his journey, including a recent addition from my bookshelf, William Shirer's riveting Berlin Diary.
***
Meanwhile, their little sister had a sleepover Friday night here with her best friend; plus my own friend fell and twisted her ankle badly that day, so I had her bedridden, with the ankle elevated and iced.
That made six of us in this place Friday night.
***
All of this was the good or at least acceptable stuff, the routine developments in busy lives. Yesterday's outdoor soccer game (photo above) was good too, another useful distraction.
Last night, I attended a friend's 50th birthday party across town, in a rare example of me socializing at night.
Still, the shadows are following me, as I go about these attempts to continue living my life as if I am somehow in charge of how it all turns out.
Admitting my powerlessness is a constant struggle. Practicing my faith is another one. Finding that indispensable source of my lifelong optimism, against whatever odds, that I'll overcome the major obstacles now confronting me is essential, I know that.
But how can I find it again?
That was the question echoing back to me today as I walked through the rain.
Where did it go? I must have lost it somewhere along my way...
-30-
3 comments:
Optimism is like a sailboat taut in the wind -- in a second, the wind shifts direction and off we go. It is good to keep some favorite music bookmarked on YouTube for times when optimism seems to be gone, for it isn't, although it seems to be. And then there's always a solid 7 hours of sleep, which can cure all and when combined with an early morning cup of coffee, the sun comes pouring in.
Thank you, I too turn -- at last -- to those YouTube videos for comfort, and I've often posted them here in low moments. I music there is solace. And sometimes a return to hopefulness...
First, I must say again- what wonderful children you have!! To see them growing, each in their own way- and with their own hopes and dreams-truly wonderful.
I hope your son is having a wonderful time in Mexico- and also, hope your friend's ankle is feeling better.
As for the optimism- the searching for it often is the best step in the right direction. It is when we cease to want to look for it anymore- ah, then we head in the wrong direction.
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