It Never Gets Old

It is possible to do the right thing, even when everything inside you is wrong. When you feel like you'd like to crawl into bed, lift the covers over your head and stay there indefinitely, whimpering from time to time.

It's possible.

I remember the story about Wilkie Collins writing the funniest section of The Moonstone while he was laid up in bed, in a lot of pain. Maybe he was whimpering. But he was also creating a rib-ticklingly funny character.

Happy things are not always created by happy people.

For all this time, I've been focussing on that happy feeling, that bolus of epinephrine exploding in your heart.

But for a lot of that time, I've felt anything but.

And today, is especially significant. But today, I wrote out a dozen cards and forced my footsteps to the nearest post office to buy the stamps and send said cards to all sorts of destinations all over the world.

I posted off a bit of joy and my main intention was for the people who receive them, pause awhile in their day, and smile. And maybe that smile would spread to a person close by and then to another and another and another and then eventually, catch on like wildfire.

Or maybe it would be a private smile in the remote fastnesses of their hearts. Something to be savoured alone, not shared, not whispered of.

Either way, it would be a good thing.

It is possible to follow through even when you've fallen off the bandwagon 20 times already. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and tread firmly on the path once again.

New beginnings.

It never gets old.