SHINE ON LIKE YOU MEAN IT

Compounding the words Shine and On sounds like a cheerleader cheer when you say it out loud.

Give it a try like this: “Shine on.”

For the full power, try it like this:

“SHINE ON!”

You shined on from the beginning, a bright penny in a circulated coin world. From penny to dollar, you face the long grind, but it doesn’t dull you.

You balance on the border of hardship and joy without stepping too far either way. More joy? More hardship? You have more than enough.

When life mistakes you for some kind of vampire and drives sorrow into your heart, you understand it’s a shared sorrow, not a personal attack. Nice try, life. Besides, you have other plans.

You Shine On

For the sake of better metaphoring, a diamond is the naming element of a diamond blade saw. Is a diamond blade saw made of diamonds? Only if it cuts through the bullshit.

You’ve got a blade, right? If not, I’ll share. Mine’s been used on a pro-level, but it’s still as sharp as the first day out of the box. I’m going to saw a few things up later, but first a couple of questions.

Is there a difference between living in fear, and being fearful of life? Fearful of life thinks every phone call brings bad news before you even answer. The next phone call is The Phone Call, the one you never want as a human, parent, species. That one.

Every knock at the door, ring of the bell, is a home invasion crew with bags full of torture tools like those used on James Bond. Knock-knock jokes don’t make you laugh.

Is that enough on living a fearful life, or should I continue with television and social media? Let’s move on to living in fear. The kicker is one is no different than the other, but keeping fear at bay takes what I like to call the MacGyver Method. That’s where you cobble together available solutions to a threatening problem.

The following is one blogger’s approach and not a remedy for anyone else. But it will help sort things out.

Pass The Diamond Saw

A fews years back I had a health scare. I still scared. After being frightened half to death by a cancer diagnosis, the freakish treatment finished the job. It killed the cancer in the house, but left the foundation shaky.

Radiation killed the cancery tumor and chemo cleaned up any rouge cancer cells hiding out where they didn’t belong. It was a near death experience due to my specific wishes, which were medically approved if I could stay on course.

Staying on course meant maintaining a minimum weight. Dip below that and treatment stopped, which brought the near death aspect too close to home for my taste.

Surviving cancer came with a going away prize from the expert panel. They all did a great job, work I’m happy with, but the new normal stuff, the what’s next part, didn’t resonate with me. I’m too sensitive? Probably.

So I took the diamond blade to this pile:

You’ll think every ache and pain the rest of your life is cancer.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Every itch in your throat will make you think of cancer.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

You’ll feel like you’re living on borrowed time the rest of your life.

(Changing diamond blades for this one.)

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

(Resting my arm.)

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Is there more? There’s always more. Keep sawing, baby. Then sweep up the dust.

Next.