It’s the first day of the new year, and I’m fighting a headache, a small one. Probably because I spent the afternoon drinking beer. Not like an idiot, mind you, like a sophisticated adult. (With his pinky raised in the air.) It’s most likely a wheat thing. I don’t think my body tolerates it the same way it used to, and I hate that. Or maybe the headache is a result of my being slumped in a chair all day. Poor posture can do that. Sitting is the new smoking, they say. Whatever the case, this too shall pass.

If I don’t first.

To be clear, I wasn’t drinking alone; I spent most the day with my friend Justin. This was the perfect way to start 2019, with one of my closest and long-time friends, discussing everything from our personal challenges to fly fishing and time travel. I recently had knee surgery, and Justin watched me go through my rehab exercises and–when we got out of the house for food later–offered his support if I needed someone to lean on. And whereas I didn’t, there’s just something about a good friend, someone who joins you wherever you are and doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

Other than hanging out with Justin, I’ve spent this evening doing (more) rehab exercises, washing and folding laundry (for the first time since before surgery), and binging on Netflix’s Atypical (Season 2), a series about an autistic teenager and his family. In the last episode I watched (before I told myself, Stop, Marcus, stop and blog), one of the characters proposed that autistics are actually normal because they see the world as it is without adding an extra layer of meaning to it. Conversely, they said, neurotypicals (people who aren’t autistic) are “off” because we take what is and extrapolate. For example, in the series (and I’m about to give away critical details from season one), one of the characters has an affair. Of course, their spouse is upset and takes the affair quite personally. But to the autistic character it’s nothing to be upset about; it’s just a fact. He says, “I’ve never met anyone who’s committed adultery before.”

What I like about this scene and interaction is that it reminds me to come back to the facts whenever my head starts spinning. Like, in terms of my injured knee, it’s easy for me to take an already challenging situation and make it worse by adding on layer and layer of worry, anxiety, panic, and fear. But the truth is simple. I recently had knee surgery and will do rehab exercises three times a day for the next week. At that point, I’ll be given further instructions. (Simple.) Granted, I don’t have to like this simple truth, but I’m happier if do. Once a friend said, “If it’s raining outside and I hate that, it’s still raining.” Their point is clear–there’s a lot in life we can’t control, but our perspective is one of the things we can.

A shift in perspective. This, I think, is nothing short of a miracle. As I’ve been blogging, my headache has only gotten worse, but even saying something like, “This too shall pass,” reminds me it’s not permanent. Nothing here is permanent. Last year an entire year passed away. For weeks I’ve battled a skin rash, and now it’s all but disappeared, as if it were never here in the first place. This is the way life is. Problems show up out of nowhere, stay a while, then go back to where they came from. More and more, I’m learning to meet the problems in my life as if they were a good friend. (Okay, maybe just a decent friend.) But my point is, knowing our time together is limited, I might as well face facts and welcome my challenges right here, right now. Why make a big deal about them by adding an “isn’t it awful?” cherry on top of my trials and tribulations sundae?

Two scoops of trouble is enough for me, thanks.