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Some Days…

Some days are diamonds. Some days are stone. That’s what John Denver sang anyway.

Some days just kick you in the fucking teeth.

Some days just leave you the hell alone.

And some days are just well…days.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Just a day that you should be grateful to be on this amazing round ball orbiting around a bright star in a sea of galaxies and hidden wonders of the Universe.

More often than not, my days are just grateful days. Grateful that the skies are blue. Grateful that I get to walk to work. Grateful for my training days. Grateful for my yoga days. Grateful to breathe. Grateful for my family. Grateful for my friends.

Just fucking grateful.

The last few days, in between the moments of gratefulness and being full of love and gratitude, my old friend “The Oncoming Storm” has been flashing its little bolts of lightning in the distance. Teasing a massive black thunderstorm.


Always teasing.

The mind is wonderful thing.

Most of the time, I’m awestruck that the blob of gray matter held in its calcium and collagen cage is essentially a computer that processes everything we do from breathing, moving, and more.

The last few days, I’ve been trying to stop a virus from crashing it.

And I don’t mean the coronavirus or Corvid 19. (Don’t even get me started.)

The virus I’m talking about is depression, mental chit chat of the negative kind or whatever you prefer to call it.

I see that damn cloud.

Teasing in the distance.

Occasionally a huge gust of negative ions are flung my way and I’ve been able to deflect them.

But I also know that The Oncoming Storm has been away.

For it, away too long.

For me, never long enough.


Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels