Today I was professionally successful. I had a hard job in my career field, and I performed at a level that I am proud of. I have a sore body from the work I put in. And it was a good day.
I try to conjure up the feelings of people in more difficult positions than I, and what they would find to be a good day.
I think of a soldier in a foreign land in battle for the sake of their home soil. Maybe a good day for them is having traveled a great distance, found out how they have a lot in common with the men around them, and nobody died on either side of the fight.
I think of a farmer who plows his fields and hand sows his acres. Maybe a good day for him is when he look’s at his broken hands, sits ragged on his back porch steps, and surveys the land that he has filled with the beginnings of life for plants and for other humans.
I want strength and appreciation like they have.
I don’t think I’ve seen true strength in myself like that yet. And it’s easy to be thankful on the good days. But that won’t ruin it. Especially as I stand below a magnificent sky that’s garnishing this small conquest.
An opus of violet pianos and amber clarinets swirl in the atmosphere while a sapphire mallet strikes softly on a cherry tympani. The chroma mixes and the gradients go deep and wide, like Kool-Aid being mixing in a pitcher. Each particle is dancing, blending in nautilus-like shapes.
The iridescent air up there is amazing, I bet. If I fell out of an airplane 20,000 leagues above the sea, would I be able to enjoy at least one millisecond of being up there where the colors get along so well? Would it help knowing it would be the closest I could get to living around it?
The Sun will be down, soon. The color will fade. Tomorrow’s finale might bring new celebration. Or it might storm for 50 straight years. I sure liked today’s, though.
Filed under: Life , Appreciation, Good Day, Hard Work, Kool-Aid, Opus, Sky, Strength, Success
