Day 1

It’s Day 1

That’s where we start, right? The diet, the organizing, the exercise routine or taking new vitamins, writing the novel, painting the masterpiece, the meditation, giving up cigarettes or booze. It all starts on Day 1. That’s where I am.

I’ve been here before. Day 1 and I are old friends. I’ve been here…..oh, 7-8 times in the last couple months, I’d say. Too many times to count over my lifetime. We’re old friends. Not good friends, mind you. Or, maybe we’re the best of friends and that’s why he so often never lets me go.  So here I am, once again, Day 1.

I can do Day 1. I sometimes struggle to get here, but I do eventually. Day 1 tastes like hope. Day 1 feels like a new breath and open windows and a glint of sun pushing through dark grey clouds. It smells like effort and growth and a way out. It sounds like ballast lifted and anticipation created.

It’s Day 2 that is so very elusive. Day 2 tastes heavy. Day 2 sounds arduous. If I don’t find Day 2 then Day 1 is wasted. One has no meaning without the existence of two. It is relegated to only a day. But, it felt like a Day 1. I have to do Day 2. I have to do more.

Day 3 is draining. Day 4 is strenuous. Day 5 is problematic. Day 6…….Day 6 is sprinkled with a hint of promise. Day 6 opens the windows just a crack. Day 6 is a paved road showing you the way to so many more days ahead of you. Better days. Day 6 is a high-five on your way into Days 7, 8, and 9. Oh, how I long for that high-five.

It’s Day 1.