Where there is a goal, there is hope....

There was a time in my life when I was not at peace with the world. My marriage was not living up to expectations; my career path seemed to be a random meandering through meaningless and unfulfilling chores. I wondered, at the age of twenty eight, if the best parts of life were indeed already in my past.
Do you have those times when days blend in with each other and form a shapeless blob of existence? The very notion of getting up and getting ready for the new day is foggy, damp, dark, and dirge-like? You look in the mirror and try to recall what once was attractive about you, and realize that it is gone for good, and may as well have never been at all? Hope, faith and dreams are just a depressing waste of time and energy, easily quashed by a few sips of wine or beer?
I recall a former co-worker that came into work everyday, usually with candy or other snacks, smiling, “good morning” to all around the office, easy to laugh, and easy to joke. I could not figure it out. He had the same miserable, tedious job as me, made the same pay, and yet he found something in this existence, this dreary, swirling, endless pursuit of meaningless survival, that made him joyful, jocular and hopeful.
I asked others about this and was more than a little surprised with what I found out. His wife had been gravely ill and bedridden for several years, since the traffic accident that killed their two children. All their income and savings was exhausted paying medical bills and to settle the massive lawsuit, and this would continue for years to come. They lived in a twenty five year old mobile home in the middle of an impoverished area outside of town, riddled with meth labs and occasional gunplay. Already in their late 50’s it was unlikely that they would ever realize any semblance of the American dream. They did not even have a car, Roger walked or bicycled three miles to work each day. Yet, with all this adversity, with this heavy dark cloud of dismay and gloom, he seemed genuinely happy, blessed to have the few things he did have, and perhaps appreciated those things even more than those more fortunate then him.
This lay heavy in my heart. Here was a man with more woes than Job, and yet he remained joyful, hopeful. I looked at my petty little complaints and took stock. I didn’t have it so bad after all. I was younger, skilled in a couple of marketable trades, I could work on my marriage and maybe, tend to my life a bit better.
From seeing Roger’s unfailing joy, it occurred to me that indeed, problems and obstacles and tribulations will only beat you down if you allow them to. Your own happiness is entirely about what you yourself make it! I decided that I would get out of my depression and just stop being so miserable. I would fix those things that kept me down, and stop letting every little speed bump pile up into an enormous mountain. I could be happy, I WOULD be happy, I could improve my life!
Dear friends, I must tell you, it is not simple. Even after all these years, and many, many improvements in my life, I still have not been able to achieve Roger’s level of joy, peace and satisfaction. I have not let that become an obstacle though. I have a goal, one that I may never achieve, but I keep it as a single, full-focus goal. I take each trial as it’s own task, manage it and move on, I forgive the indiscretions of others and strive to let that forgiveness show.
No, I will never reach Roger’s level. You see there was something special about Roger that I cannot imagine for myself. After that car accident that killed his children and cost his wife’s health, He had one fourth of his brain removed. That he could function at all was the real miracle.
Perhaps those of us that are still intact can somehow find that same level of peace. There is always hope as long as we are open to the possibility of happiness. We need only ourselves to find and share our own joy.
Grab each day by the boots and shake it till all the hidden happiness falls out of the pockets!