Cliffhanger

Someone once took me up to Bald Rock on a Sunday afternoon, and as we sat overlooking the places where we eat and work and live, the minutiae of every-day life and its troubles was impossible to see.  All you could really do up there on that huge rock, was admire the view while maintaining a safe distance from the edge of the cliff.  "It's a great place to live," he said.  I agreed. 

I can't see the details of tomorrow.  I don't know what will happen to me or my son.  I don't know where I will live a year from now, or even if I will still be alive.  All I can really do is wait it out and try to keep away from the edge of the cliff.  Its harder to enjoy the view when all you see are the tiny, worrisome details, but I have to try.  Maybe I can even convince myself that my life is a great place to live.


The above is a blog post from almost 2 years ago.  It doesn't seem like it has been that long, and life has continued on--things happening, my making things happen, and my failing to make things happen as always.  I've had some unexpected but much appreciated surprises and some major disappointments.  My body has failed me more, my emotions have betrayed me and my life has become an almost foreign place to me.  However, my life really is a great place to live.

Maybe it's because I've had so many losses over the last few years, or maybe it's just because I've finally learned to stop trying to control everything, either way, I'm grateful for all the little joys I have and tend to focus on those things more lately than I ever have.

I don't let myself think or analyze too much anymore.  I don't want to live a life that goes unexamined, but I also don't want to scrutinize everything so much that I end up overlooking the blessings.  

I'm just feeling so grateful that my future isn't set in stone, and the future of those that I love is just as fluid.  Who knows what will happen tomorrow?  I've got today to appreciate first.  I'll deal with tomorrow when it gets here.