Reality Check

Once in a while I have to remind myself that it's not all sturm und drang. Yesterday was a particularly good day professionally, a cause for much celebration. I got sick of the desk, the chair, the office, so toward the end of the day I decided to clear my head and remind myself of why life was good. So I changed to shorts and t-shirt, headed for the beach, and practically ran down the stairs to the sand.

The sun had set, but the horizon still glowed with radiant pink and gold against the blue-black waterline. Further up in the sky, the brilliant colors faded to softer, darker pastels and gradually to the deep blue of twilight. Venus shimmered a perfect solitary silver. The beach was virtually empty. The moon overhead was so bright that I could see my shadow on the water even as the sunset still glowed on the horizon.

The tide was mostly out, the water cool. MP3 player plugged in with "I Don't Feel Like Dancin" in my ears (it's over there on my playlist, I dare you to listen and not start dancing in your chair!) I began to race barefoot through the waves like a little boy just let out of school. Each time a subsiding wave crest approached my foot, I jumped high in the air over it and whooped and hollered. Life is great! I have so much to be thankful for! Health, family, the world's most wonderful kids, a great job, faith in God and friends who welcome and accept me for what I am, this beautiful world all around me. And so much more. Who wouldn't jump in the air and whoop it up? I have no idea why I got so lucky, but I'll take it and be grateful for it!

There was one other guy on the beach, playing frisbee with his dog. He watched me race up and down and must have thought I was nuts. Who cares. I was elated. And still am. As darkness fell I walked back to my car, only this time a few inches above the ground.

This morning I'm back in the office with a ton of work ahead, but filled with new energy. Shout out to all my friends in the blog world: you're the best. I wish I could give each one of you a big bone-crushing rugby scrum hug. You are a big part of why I am still whooping it up inside.