Gratitude: Hope and the Elusive Silver Lining

train-wreck-67775_640Yeah…there’s no silver lining. Anyone who’s ever flown through a cloud bank knows it’s just water vapor. Hope has shown up, weaker each day as reality kicks its ass and my silver linings have proven to be just that–vapor, shadow, smoke and mirrors.

The Dalai Lama says “I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe.”

Sorry, Dalai (or is it Mr. Lama) never mind–your Holiness; I’m judging the F*** out of the Universe at the moment. It’s torturing my true love and sabotaging any hope I have of helping her. I don’t mean to be a dick about it, but who am I going to blame? I need to blame someone. Otherwise, I have to accept that my love means nothing to anyone but her and that her life means nothing to anyone but me and a handful of people close to her. What kind of product are you selling? I think it’s defective…Love seems to do nothing to make things right.

His Holiness also says: “We need to learn how to want what we have NOT to have what we want in order to get steady and stable Happiness”

waterfalls-1081703_1280Again…so sorry, but I find it extremely difficult to want this pain for my wife. That whole “living in the now”, which is difficult at the best of times, is next to impossible when the future is screaming at you, and throwing rocks and pointy sticks at you. Add exhaustion, fear and depression to that recipe and you have the makings of a really bad shit pie. Yuck. Not grateful for my shit pie. I’m not a big fan of raspberry either, but I could see myself being grateful, maybe a little, for raspberry. But the universe sent me a shit pie.

Hey! Universe! Were you out of raspberries?

Where’s all that help people said they’d have to give when things got bad. Hey Universe! Where’s all that saved up good karma from being grateful for all those years just because. Hey Universe! Where are my royalties? The mortgage is due and I have to sell another pint of blood.

stress-704402_1920HEY! UNIVERSE!

Hmmm. No answer. Must be on my own. Wow, that’s a little liberating. It’s just me, all on my own, no help, no support, no good energy, no bad energy, no angels or demons or gods or devils… Holy shit! Now that’s actually a silver lining! That weight is gone…the Universe doesn’t owe me shit and I don’t owe it shit! Okay…I think I can make it through another day now…now that I know I haven’t done anything to anger the Universe. Now that I know this isn’t some sort of vendetta against us. Maybe his holiness had something after all.

Now all I have to do is find someone who wants to buy some quality O Negative.

S.L. Shelton is the author of an Amazon Bestselling Thriller/Action Espionage Series, (The Scott Wolfe Series). Follow him here on WordPress, on Twitter @SLSheltonAuthor or Facebook. His wife is currently battling an aggressive, rare cancer. If you feel the desire to help, you can make a contribution at the GoFundMe that their daughter set up, or buy his books.


2 thoughts on “Gratitude: Hope and the Elusive Silver Lining

  1. I’m so sorry it’s been such a tough week. Try to keep putting one foot in front of the other. A new day will dawn and things may look a little brighter tomorrow. And yes your love does mean something. It means everything to Gretel. Keep holding her hand and keep telling her you’re there.


  2. What the hell can a man who is coddled by servants and wears a sheet every day of his life teach us? Screw him.

    Melville’s ‘Ishmael’ said that whenever his mood made him feel like knocking the hat off every passerby in the street, he felt it was time to take to the sea. To get his mood back in line with the Cosmic scheme of things, one concludes.

    You can’t afford the luxury of sea at the moment. Gretel needs you. So I recommend the following …

    1. Go to Wal-Mart.
    2. Purchase a large, multi-gallon rubber trashcan, and one baseball bat.
    3. Put said material in the backyard.
    4. Whenever you feel homicidal, suicidal, regicidal – and, especially, Deicidal – repair to the backyard and beat that damn trashcan without mercy. Repeatedly. Yell, scream, curse … and beat.

    Repeat as often as needed.

    My best wishes to you, my friend, and to the missus.



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