Life As Performance Art 27

¡Feliz Madrugada, Gentle Reader! Or, happy small hours of the morning. I am paying for my active and highly energized day with poor sleep. I have logged three hours of sleep and almost two hours of light dozing, and after writing this and a bit of breakfast, I'm going down for a long nap, and we'll see how well I do with my clients today. Probably okay. Insufficient sleep never seems to get in the way of performing well professional. And I seem to be always able to leave my bad day at home. This works well, actually, because when I give my very best to my clients, my problems that I left at home are often much easier to resolve, or they have almost magically ceased to exist at all. There are things I am always going to dislike in my work, and my apartment, and my neighbourhood, my friends, my church, and myself. This is all part of life. We can't always get what we want, and sometimes it never seems to happen, but this isn't to say that we can't still have a fairly good time, and eventually, a downright enjoyable time. I had this kind of conversation yesterday with a new client while we were taking a walk together. That regardless of what's happened in our lives, how many mistakes, missteps and downright stupid blunders, that there always remains in our lives a kind of hidden thread, a theme that is going to continue to develop, a narrative that will go on being told. Nothing is wasted. I think it's very important to face our failures, or should I say, our sense or perception of failure, in this kind of light. We are not really in control of things, and we never were, never will be, and we were never meant to be in control. Does anyone here know the Serenity Prayer? Here it is again, as a refresher: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." It is as though God does give each of us our own tiny sphere of dominion or control. We can control a lot of our own comings and goings. But we cannot control what is going to happen once we step outside. I cannot control the tragic idiot who wrecked his life on drugs and now lies languishing between life and death from an overdose, neither can I control the volume of the siren I just heard outside. If I don't like the sound, and I don't, I do have control over closing my window and wearing earplugs, if I really want peace and quiet, and usually I do. I could also offer up a prayer for the first responders and for the poor imbecile's broken heart and broken life that may never be healed. I could also ask God to make me more loving and less judgemental. And he just might answer my prayer by sending more sirens until I have accepted that my ragged nerves and hatred of loud and shrill sounds are still something very small and unimportant, compared to all the pain and horror that surrounds us. And I can also control my perceptions by looking for, and actually finding, the beauty and meaning and love that lie at the very heart of the horror. There is light in the darkness, and indeed, the most brilliant and healing light will come from those black holes of most profound darkness. Now I have just put on two eggs to boil for breakfast, and I am going to give thanks again for the good food and the safe and decent apartment where I live, and for the lovely decaf French Colombian roast that is not going to prevent me from soon slipping back into some much needed sleep. And then I will wake up and restart my day, hopefully with joy in my heart and a song on my lips.