I wake, and I get ready to start the day off with a feel-good workout — punching, kicking, jumping, and dancing the negative away. All to some fairly dope music — some days the mixes are better than others — but it always gets you moving.
Sweat. All. The. Nasty. Away. Well…not all the nasty. You know. Then it’s off; endorphins rushing your system making you feel all kinds of glowing. Alive. Electric. Vital. You feel real, fucking good.
Hop in your ride, put on some Jay Z; vibing to ‘Public Service Announcement’ over, and over, and over again. “Either love me; or leave me alone.”
You’ve called in your coffee order; they greet you over the phone; they know your name; you’re a regular; you exchange brief pleasantries and jokes. You stop at the drugstore, a.k.a. neighborhood freak show. It’s Teta’s birthday, so you pick out a couple cards; one from the kiddos, one from you and J. You take your time. You actually read the cards; searching for the one that most closely describes what you’d like to say yourself, before you say it yourself, in your own words, in the card.
You head home; Jay Z still going on about how he walks like a ballplayer. And he does. Because, sexy. You’re still feeling good; thoughts flooding your mind. Mostly good thoughts; though the occasional creeper sneaks in; trying to bring you down. Or allows you to brace for what’s coming. Or, whatever. But you focus, quite purposefully, on those things that matter most to you; that keep you focused; humble. Grateful. Very, very, grateful.
You pull in, park the car, grab your coffee and bag, head to the door. You walk in and your loves are still there; getting ready to go visit Teta. Kiddos both sign the card; imprinting their own characters onto it; complete with drawings and scribbles. You see them to the door; J ushers them through; they’ll stop and pick out pretty flowers on the way. You go about your business; rounding out your morning workout with free weights, and crunches, and reps galore. You really do end up feeling the burn. And it really does feel good. Well…afterwards; during, it’s a challenge. And that’s cool, too.
You get ready because company’s coming over; your sister and her boyfriend are in town; you love having family over; all hanging out, chatting, eating, chillin’. It’s like one of your favorite things in the whole world. Seriously. You love it.
You play catch with your kiddos when they come home. You love watching your children learn to accomplish new things; you see the belief in themselves shining through their eyes, raising their awareness that everything you’ve been telling them in life about hard work, focus, effort and accomplishment really is true. It’s, like, the dopest thing ever.
So you enjoy their company; enjoy your coffee. You memorialize the experience. You try to put it into words, knowing that sometimes the actual experience is so much better than you can really describe it. So you immerse yourself in it. You enjoy the moments. The shrieks of laughter and joy emanating from the kiddos. The chuckles and shit-talking coming from the table, where some of you are seated around discussing a range of topics. You’re good. It’s good. Just another Sunday.