the promise of light, or, how to adjust your sails, part 2.

There's the promise of light again - in the form of the moon in the morning,
heavy hanging, autum-like glow in the spring's ever-brightening sunrise.

It's easy to stay sad, and much harder to do the work of feeling better.

Do the work.

photosource: without wax, katy

How to Adjust Your Sails

Tell yourself the truth and then live as if you believe it.

Find humor in the lies, and comedic timing in the liars.

Go outside. There is an entire world continuing; go find it.

I suggest nature, because I am drawn to it. So, sit, take in.
Walk. Explore the trails off the beaten path. Devour fresh
air, eye the glassy water until you find the wrinkle. Watch

the sun glint off the belly of the bird as it takes flight, off
a river now marked with the beat of each wing. Giggle.
Laugh. Find the ceiling of your joy and stay there,

as long as the air will hold you;

you've spent so much time looking up from below.
Give yourself a break. Hold hands, accept hugs, and pray a little.
Pray a lot. Let the weight of your world be lifted by someone else;

people offer, you simply have to let them take it. Then, when
you are light, watch the moon dance with its reflection at night.
Take those little pauses as they come.
.

Practice gratitude.
Say thank-you to the sky for being up, or the earth,
for being there when your foot needed somewhere to land.
Speaking of earth, the best things for you come from it,
so eat your vegetables. Shop the perimeter, close the box.
Become a healthy version of yourself. Be at your best.
Make it so strength is subconscious; so when the next
hard thing comes, your body says hey, we got this.

Ready yourself to enjoy life.
There will be plenty who try their best
to make sure you don't. Enjoy it anyway.
Spite the thwarters by avoiding spite.
Be gracious. Show mercy. Forgive. Move on.

As many times as it takes, you do these things. For you.

©afterthoughtcomposer