The body tenses and relaxes. My tender pectorals and abdomen wince with each movement. Only hours ago, I twisted and flexed and flexed and twisted with a splash and a breath for a mile. Swimming. It is a custom I have been getting into while I deal with the stress of being destitute, let down, and bewildered. Never has my confidence fallen so low. When I left Idaho for Colorado, I knew it would not come easy, but I underestimated the shit storm that would ensue.

To keep my head up, I swim. I run. I hike. I try to surround myself with friends. I try to take any opportunity while the debt collectors call and harass. I feel sorry for those collectors, led down the path to earn money by harassing those who have fallen on hard times. Hopefully, my stint is brief. Some days are better than others. Some days, I feel an interview coming. I apply for three to seven jobs a day.  I meet people who tell me that they can help me find jobs. However, I feel nothing materializing.

Sometimes, I take a breath to reorient myself. That which was planned never was, and that which is always is. I must remember a saying by an old hero, RWE.

“Write it on your heart
that every day is the best day in the year.
He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day
who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety.

Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.
Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in.
Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day;
begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit
to be cumbered with your old nonsense.

This new day is too dear,
with its hopes and invitations,
to waste a moment on the yesterdays.”