Blank

 

 

March 7, 2022

 

Greetings from the blank, 

When I woke this morning, I left behind a cloud of words in the mist of sleep, things I had been thinking of when I ended my day yesterday.   I began this morning aware of them, but not ready to invite any of them into my day.  I make this choice every morning, and I think you do too.

 On the desk next to me is my favorite mug.  It usually holds another of my favorites, coffee.  It is almost always with me when I start each morning.  It is a diner’s mug, a simple, beautiful design that fits my hands, keeps my coffee warm in the time I like to take to drink it.

 The mug came to me from the inspired optimism of Bert and John Jacobs, who founded ‘Life is Good’, a little company that makes t-shirts and stuff with silly and poignant messages printed on them.  I wrote that sentence intentionally to understate the power of what they do, because I want you to be curious about it.

 On one side of the mug is the caricature of a runner, a huge smile on his face, in full stride over three words that seem to be holding him in the air: ‘Life is Good’.  This is Jake, who knows all my morning thoughts.

 I’ve had this mug for more than fifteen years, and it has aged with me.  It has darkened in some places, faded in others.  But I recognize it by touch in a dark morning, as the first pot of coffee is brewing, and I am thinking about how I will brand my day.

 On the other side of the mug are the words ‘Do what you like.  Like what you do.’  It is a simple and complicated message.  It suggests that when you have a choice, do what brings you joy.  And even when what you are doing doesn’t seem like your first choice, find the joy in it, because it’s there.

 I’m describing this to you intuitively, without looking at the mug.  If you were sitting next to me, watching me corral these words, you might glance at the mug and point out there is nothing written there.  Which is accurate, but not the truth.

 The words have faded, worn thin from my touch, from being washed and used and lived on.  This morning I noticed it, knew it without knowing it.  I felt a touch of sadness, paired with my smile, knowing the words will always be there.  And that led me to write this.

 Each day we get to write our own message, the one we will hold and care about today.  It can be the one we wrote yesterday, if it suited us, brought us joy.  Or it can be something else that will lead us to what we hope for.

Optimism is not always a natural instinct, it must be practiced, chosen, instead of giving in to what threatens to make us smaller.  I want to keep getting better at it, because there are powers in the world that want me to change my mind.

 The cynics line up to tell me that this is a naïve perspective, that optimism doesn’t lower gas prices, or put food in your stomach, or stop wars, or racism.  And I hear an echo of truth in this harsh reality because part of me is a cynic too.  Just not the part I choose to listen to.

 Our attitude will not fix politics or hate or greed.  Being hopeful doesn’t cure the sickness, doesn’t erase the mistakes, won’t put our precious earth in the condition we found it.  But at the heart of every solution, of every step toward any ideal, there are people who are willing to see the possible, to be hopeful.  What follows is far better than those who can only see the dark endings.

 It's lighter now, I have been watching these words form in front of me for a few hours already.  I like what they say, not just because I wrote them, but because I need them to make this day the best it can be, whatever else comes my way.  I had this blank place to make that possible, and I wrote what I hoped for.

 And some will write songs, and some will bathe babies, and some will spray words on concrete, and some will speak out, and some will plant things, and some will help a stranger, and some will pray, and some will give, and some will sit silently while others weep, and some will dance in their kitchen, and some will say yes.  And there is where it begins.

 Choose what words you will write on your blank space, and let’s go make this place what it is meant to be.

 

Hope this finds you writing what you want,

 

David

 

 

Copyright © 2022  David Smith