The Sunny Side of the Street

This simply must be my response to the state of affairs in my little corner of the world. Direct my feet to the sunny side of the street is excellent advice in and under all circumstances. Frank Sinatra is cool. My feet are trying to march me straight into a glum place. There are a number of reasons why this is the natural bent of things at the moment. But, I swear, everywhere I look things are challenging for so many people. I can't afford to go chasing after a melancholy mood. They are difficult to dig out from and are selfish journeys benefiting no one. Still the idea of hanging my head and appearing defeated is appealing. Appearing defeated is the truth as I am not defeated. I am far from defeated. Lord knows that my entire life has prepared me for times such as these and I do not want to do these times with my head squarely up my "you know what"! Isn't it strange how the dreadful places of self-pity and rampant self-will appear comforting just at the time they would be most harmful?

Do I qualify for the, "Wow, you have it tough" club? Yep! You bet'cha! Am I qualified, with the help of God, to thrive where I am planted. Yep! You bet'cha! But I come from a long line of melancholy people with dark visions of the future and mental sickness running through their veins. Swimming upstream from this legacy requires constant vigilance and the willingness of trusted friends to, with a stern hand, redirect my thoughts. I suppose I can take credit for wanting to live my life in the light of grace and faith. I cannot claim that I gain that lofty goal alone or that I always act as if I want it. No! There are days when I allow myself to slowly descend into morbid thinking. Funny, that is exactly what the alcoholic part of me loves to do as often as possible. Morbid thinking! What a comfort! Surely someone will notice and ask me what is wrong and feel sorry for me. HA! HA! Not on your life or mine! God does not allow for it and my friends won't stand for it so I am left in the pit of morbid thinking all by my lonesome. I climb out. There is no fun in high drama if no one at all pays attention.

The sunny side of the street beckons. What the heck? I think I'll cross over.