What isn't

My car didn’t conk out today. It’s what I usually think about when I’m on the road, or after it starts up.

And although it first feels trite, every time I use my car I get a dot of gratitude with it.

It is trite, but fundamental:

For every down there’s a thousand downs absent.

And there isn’t an absent down that doesn’t look like a present up.

As I’m sure many’ve heard the “At least you aren’t…!” in their lives, the key is this: You won’t see such ups until you visualize it in your day-to-day.

Imagine your computer covered in smoke — possible data loss and logins too. Now you need to find a way to recover those. And you have bills you need to pay soon with those logins. Now you have to start all of the steps, yet known, to get it working again, to get your data back, probably have to pay a bunch to get something new. I can’t not feel relief when I think about all of that. It works! Are you glad too?

Here are some additional examples of (hopefully) what isn’t:

There isn’t a smell of garbage permeating the premises.

This body isn’t hosting any tumors. Nor backaches.

There aren’t any murders near home.

And there aren’t any empty-stomach nights and cold winds, sleepless nights.

There’s no one near battling with severe addiction, cancer. And there isn’t a fear of going outside.

This place isn’t anything special, but it isn’t going to last forever.

The things one knows, the things one lives for, they’ll not last forever either.

No thousand and one nights, just a thousand or less.

This bike hasn’t been mauled or stolen. Or car.

There’s no mold in the bathroom.

This place isn’t closed today; someday it will. Someday the employees will leave too. Maybe to Wisconsin or Liverpool or Lisbon.

There isn’t much preventing a visit to those places while they’re here.

There aren’t any impossible barriers from what one wishes to know and what others do.

There isn’t a short future without a sun, nor a breeze and some waves to view.

There isn’t a sure ending of thought, nor feeling. Whatever brick you swallow will dissolve with enough acid.

There isn’t a hidden footnote that states, “you’ve past the point of no return. No longer can you get to know yourself, the others, the reasons for anything.”

There isn’t a reason to feel lonely when you take nature as company.

There isn’t a narrator waiting to write in your death in some horror movie.

You haven’t choked on gum in awhile, and haven’t been knocked out.

There isn’t too much in the way from seeing all of this.

But it pays off to see it :-)