Anything is possible.
My Mom used to say that quite a bit.
We’d present her with a far-fetched, nearly impossible development of events. Could it happen? With a lilt in her voice and a bit of a smile, she’d say, “Anything’s possible.”
I always took it as her way of not engaging in our wild, imaginary scenarios, without sounding too discouraging.
It never dawned on me how very optimistic her words were.
Imagine saying – perhaps many times each day – “Anything is possible.”
Imagine believing it!
What a hopeful way of looking at the world!
I tend – more – to expect defeat.
I’m fearful of anticipating wild success.
I don’t even know if the failures and disappointments I’ve experienced contributed to that outlook, or if the attitude preceded (my sister Brenda would say “maybe even caused…“) those events.
I’m just about to the end of my “write every day” month.
Some days have been better than others, but I’ve kept up with it.
Sometimes I write in the morning, other times after work in the evening. Because of that, more than once I’ve woken up in the middle of the night, fearful that I’d missed a day.
Not so far, though!
I’m beginning to believe I might just get through this.
After all, anything is possible.