Hope in sepia tones.

It's Saturday night and I'm cleaning my room, because the mind begs for order from something. The windows are open in this, a room I've had since I was 14. These are the windows I slept under when we first moved here. Back then when thunderstorms rolled through I'd curl up under my window to watch the lightning and listen to rain hit the pond across the street.

Today I'm in the same spot.

I've been thinking lately about this phrase I've loved for so long: expect nothing, appreciate everything. Nights like these I feel like maybe expecting nothing sometimes means hoping for nothing. I'm afraid to wish for things. I'm afraid to count on things. I'm afraid to think better of the future. It's not given. These things are frail and treading into them feels brave some days, other days, just really really stupid.

I don't think I'm the only one who feels this way.

I do know I'm no good at appreciating everything. So I'll make a kitschy list:

1. Thunderstorms

2. Some money in the bank

3. Only $7000 in debt to pay off

4. CrossFit

5. I can run (not fast - but I can do it).

6. Kelly Starrett seminar on the horizon

7. No immediate danger.

8. Air conditioning

9. The interweb

10. Old journals

I wish I could play guitar like this: