What a start to the day here! It has all the elements of a solid morning:

1. Waking up naturally, no alarm, well before 7AM. Also, riding the tailwind of 8 hours of sleep.
2. Dishes are done, kitchen is clean and it’s still not even 7.
3. It’s the first notably chilly morning of the season. Maybe we’ll finally be rid of the heat this year.
4. Weekly cup of coffee. 10 oz. Feeling dangerous.
5. It’s a Thursday. The weekend is in sight and approaching fast.
6. Work from home rest of the week.

There’s space to breathe.

I’d like some of this writing to focus on the plenty. The good should be recognized. Granted, I’m so accustomed to writing to problem solve, trying to get somewhere else. This must have started early, writing papers in school to get the grade, trying to persuade the teacher or the audience throughout the essay. This medium isn’t about that. Who am I convincing here?

I feel the more I can focus on capturing a moment in time, the less I need to worry. Focusing on what I have, rather than what I don’t. This morning I have plenty, and what a morning it is!

Of course, you can spin it in either direction:

Your primary fears are loss and being alone. This is all desperation. Scrambling to collect good moments, in preparation for the inevitable bad ones. Scavenge while you can, winter is coming. Nothing is permanent. You can make yourself comfortable, but brace yourself.

It’s all perspective, and the negative isn’t necessarily wrong. The survivalist in me, we’ll call him, is a smooth criminal. A seasoned veteran in avoidance, the advent of anxiety, and the terror of “too much of a good time”. To his credit, he’s incredibly useful. For one, his ability to adapt is second-to-none. Throughout life, he’s built up an admirable tolerance to sorrow, and managed to avoid complete destruction. The survivalist is adept at picking up what’s useful and abandoning everything else; the ultimate scavenger. Lightweight and noncommittal, he can move forward and get the job done.

Like any good survivalist, he has the tools for the job and nothing more. What he gains in focus and utility, he lacks in depth. Sure, this nimble navigator can sleep in the rain, but the obsession to stay dry comes at a cost. Despite his adaptable mindset, he’d much rather have a place to call home; a place of stability and known quantities. A place to rest. In lieu of that, a hardened resolve leads to the continuous search for more. He is fueled by fear and anxiety to boot. He is angry, he is sad. Hopeful, but he won’t show it. Incredibly vulnerable, but he will run from it. Always running.

In his shadow lies a man of plenty. Once a sleeping giant, he begins to counter the survivalist’s every move and thought with deadly precision. This scares the survivalist.

There’s power in the plentiful. Excess. An ease, a relaxation. Clear eyes, full heart, and a seeming inability to lose. A confidence exudes from the man of plenty. A sense of palpable permanence. Worry shrinks in the presence of more and the possession of want. The man of plenty opposes the lack and offers the bounty. The strength of having had and not needing more makes a powerful foe.

It’s funny…I find myself rooting for the survivalist.