It's early in the morning on Monday and it's time for me to address my fears and doubts, though arguably Monday mornings are not the best time to address fears and doubts.

If you've been watching my notice board you know I got laid off my job last week. It was sudden and unexpected, and in my opinion it was a mistake, and not just because it creates problems for me. But none of that is really important because I have to keep moving forward, through the shadows, through the chaos, to get to the better life waiting for me on the far side.

I suppose it helps to have perspective. Losing my job isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me, it's just inconvenient and the worst its done to me (so far) is make me dust off my resume. For people who've had it simple and easy all their lives, relatively speaking, it might seem like the worst fate in the world.

If you're not jumping into my story late, you also know that I lived in a van for years. I still own that van. It died this past weekend. Not dead dead, but I have to take it to the shop. It's probably my fault for hanging on to it, the thing has certainly seen better days. In the end it's an expense I can't really afford - not if my future income is in question. Still, I persevere with my chin up and my chest out, trusting in my maker to finish what he started when he began molding this humble ball of clay.

Most of the time life seems like a big secret. People today don't realize hard times come and go, they live so resolutely in the moment that they can't see past danger, or joy, or love, or hate. Everything is marvelous or it's a personal hell and there's nothing in between.

I still have good things. I have a "family" that cares about me, that I love as if they were my flesh and blood. I have my energy, my music, and my stories. I'm fit and healthy (for the most part), I have a closet full of cute clothes and an attitude that fits me like a circus tent. I still have my talents and my gifts, and there are still people out there that value them. I won't be unemployed forever. I might not get the job I really want, it might not pay me what I'd like, but I'll have a job before too long nonetheless, and with that I can be content.

Those are pretty sentiments, but it doesn't make the journey less difficult.

I might seem like I'm waffling here, but I suppose that's natural. I go through bouts of depression and periods of mania as I contemplate the opportunities ahead, so it's natural some of that will be reflected in my words. The admission makes neither statement, that everything will be fine and that it hurts anyway, less true.

Pain isn't always a bad thing. We let strangers pierce the flesh of our children with sharpened steel to infuse them with arcane chemistry because you believe it will help them. We withhold joy from our young ones because spending 20 hours a day playing video games will do more hurt than good. We understandably refuse to give our kids $50 for a bag of weed, though they're clearly jonesing. All of these cause pain, and all are for the good of the one afflicted. Just because you can't see the reason doesn't mean there isn't one.

And I think that's the big secret. Results differ with your attitude. You can choose to be glum, convinced that the world is shitting on you for no reason, or you can shout your defiance into the void and rise up with power and purpose, choosing to experience both pain and joy without collapsing beneath the weight of the former.

I think it was Ford, the car guy, not the President, who said:

"Whether you believe you can or whether you believe you can't, you're right."

While we're shackled to this material plane, pain in some form is going to be our constant companion. Experiencing it doesn't make you special or unique. You can decide to use it as an excuse and stop trying, or you can embrace it along with every other facet of this complex existence, let it shape you into something better, and believe that no matter what happens you'll land on your feet. There's only going to be one time in your life that a positive attitude will be objectively wrong, and when you pass from this corporeal realm, none of your bemoaning will matter.

What happens after is a different conversation altogether, but the benefit of a positive attitude has shaped some of my feelings about religion, largely because there's no net gain in nihilism. If I'm wrong, I'll wink out of existence like everyone else, blissfully unaware. If I'm right, I go forward with purpose and hope into the next adventure. Either way, the life I live on this mud ball is better for it.