Tarnished nickels and open doors

When all else fails, I am grateful for open dumpster lids. For a quarter gallon of gas left in my tank. For the upstairs neighbor belting Adele on her balcony. For one more glass of wine left in a bottle. For a lower electric bill. For a well placed rainbow. For the perfectly timed sign.

Sometimes my silver linings look like chance opportunities and open arms, and other times they look tarnished nickels on the sidewalk and open doors. The blight of my life is doing too much and striking out too often. I wake up everyday feeling like I’m going to win the lottery. I have the heart of an optimist and the mind of a high stakes poker player. But part of the risk of playing the slots is coming up with three lemons. You know there might be a couple, but you’re always expecting a cherry somewhere in there. 

Anyway, as long as I never stop finding those silver linings, I’ll never truly lose. Does everything happen for a reason? It doesn’t look that way from the vantage of someone who tries every door. But the point is that they happen. You move forward, you move sideways. At least you’re moving. You may not be climbing a ladder but at least you’re not collecting dust. At least you’re somewhere new. Opportunities don’t bring you the things worth coming for. There is no trail of breadcrumbs, no series of ley lines that lands you at the feet of your destiny. You bring to an opportunity the seeds you will sow. You reap what you plant. You could have the most fertile soil on the planet, but you can’t watch the dirt and hope for life to spring forth. If something was harvested from the plot you found yourself in, you have yourself to thank.

Work that untenable soil. Sow your wild oats. Something will bloom someday. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow. But one of these days, something will grow.

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