On frustrating days (or rather, on good enough days with some particularly frustrating moments), this view right outside my door is my mental safe space…
My much-needed reminder that the momentary afflictions and annoyances are passing by like the fading sun and the gentle waves.
There’s a psalm that comes to mind–or should–when I start getting distracted by what’s not going the way I want:
“I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD In the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the LORD.”
Psalms 27:13-14 NASB
I’m preaching to myself here, and watching the last amber hues fade behind the gray clouds at the horizon. Tomorrow will be another day, with its own troubles as well as a few left over from today.
With the trouble, there is always a supply of goodness and grace. It’s up to me to choose what to focus on.
The highlight of my transition to civilian life is the location of our new apartment.
I mean, other than no more military performance reports, surprise schedule changes, last-minute flights, PT tests, uniforms, and so on. (I wanted to include computer-based training or CBTs on the list, but I will still have to do those in my new job. Sad face.)
We’re located at Toguchi Beach – the point on Okinawa where US forces first made landfall during World War II. There’s a sand park with a slide for the kidlets, walking trails to explore, cool rock formations to climb on, and of course the beach itself.
Our apartment is smaller than what we had for Base Housing, so despite all our downsizing, we still feel like we have more stuff than space… but we’re adjusting to the change.
The apartment has a balcony patio thing even though it’s on the first floor, so we’re looking forward to evening tea with the sunset or a Saturday morning of writing with a cup of coffee.
During my retirement ceremony, I mentioned that one of the things which kept me grounded and sane in the military was the knowledge that nearly every problem I have is temporary. Next week, next month, I probably won’t even remember what was bothering me so much today. It’s a wordy version of the old adage:
This, too, shall pass.
Meanwhile, I drive to work looking at the ocean every day, watching the waves roll in and the clouds streak the sky with gold.
Now I have that every time I look out the window or step out the door.
Even though I shared that thought with my friends and family last week, and even though it’s something I learned back in 1999 or 2000, I still have to remind myself of the truth of this outlook.
We still have a lot of changes to sort out. There are some temporary hurdles I know will get solved soon, and some longer-term questions that need answers…
But the waves keep splashing and babbling, and the sun keeps shining through the clouds. It’s a good place to be to start off 2019.
A friend of mine has started posting some parts of a philosophy of holistic fitness that he’s been thinking through. He focuses on the common experiences that unite us – shared ideas based on what it means and feels like to be a physical being. While I love to pick on him (usually in retribution) and disagree with him about many things, I’ve always enjoyed hearing his perspective.
Maybe you will too.
It appears he has reblogs turned off, but links work just fine.
The home of David M. Williamson, writer of fantasy, sci-fi, short stories, and cultural rants.