It’s Such… Such a Horrid Day

It’s Such… Such a Horrid Day

It’s such… such a perfect day…

I listened to this song somewhat dreamily as I drove to work under a stodgy blanket of grey clouds. The day itself seemed grey. The tarmac on which I drove, the sand bars along the side of the road, other cars racing past, concrete bridges whizzing overhead… all grey. Only the grass remained green and against all this grey, it looked like wild neon flailing in the wind.

As it goes on grey days, my thoughts turned introspective and quiet. What is a perfect day, Chris Martin? What are you singing about? When last did you have such… such a perfect day? Your song sounds so ethereal, I wonder if you really have had a perfect day… ever?

I decide, after much introspective musing, that every day is a perfect day. I decide that yes, I am the eternal optimist: every day is what you make of it.

And some days are truly horrible…
Fraught with challenges.
Sick days at home, with our heads stuffed into the toilet.
Stressful days, buried in deadlines.
Worrisome days, when the money runs out.
Grievous days, when someone is taken from us.
Heart wrenching, lonely days, when the phone never rings, when no one ever cares.

And then every now and then…. The sun shines on us and we sigh with some satisfaction and self-righteousness, “At last…! A perfect day!”

As if life owes us more of those.
As if life would be fulfilled with more of those.
As if we’d be happier people.
Better people, even.

But I think that a horrible day is a perfect day, in its own way.

A day fraught with challenges, can promote strength.
A sick day at home, can force well-needed rest.
A stressful day at work, can lead to growth.
A day of financial worry, can teach wisdom.
A grievous day of mourning, can create gratitude for life.
A lonely day, can inspire caring for others.

And a perfect day – one of those sapphire-skied, breathlessly sunny days – is a gift of joy and respite. One we should treasure and appreciate… but never feel entitled to.

So embrace all those perfect, horrid days. It may just be that they give you depth, they define you. It may just be that they make you… perfectly you.

Advertisements

Leave your comment...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s