Rose-Coloured Glasses

La vie en rose.
Perhaps I’m finally starting to learn that life can be as miserable as you want it to be.

That I’ve been blessed with the privilege of having the option to put on a good big-band classic and let the brass tickle my eardrums, bringing on a smile big enough to pull my government-mandated mask under my nose.

But who cares?
If anyone says anything, I can pull it up,
and move on.

In a ridiculously nonsensical world,
life can be as normal as I make it.

The old normal.

Sing a hymn in my head, or a Christmas carol aloud in September, since the mask muffles it anyway.
I guess that’s one perk, right?

Or perhaps, my very own “new normal”.

I can count my blessings and be grateful for how great life is.
That’s new.

And when it isn’t, say “Blessed be the name of the Lord” and move on.
That’s new.

Perhaps if you pray the rosary enough,
you’ll start to see life through rose-coloured glasses.


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