There is something seriously wrong with me

I just finished putting away the dulcimer hammers I bought in Mongolia.



I just finished a trip to Mongolia. I rode horses on the steppes. I ate goat. I was in the party van.

Why is my default setting, "My life sucks." Because I don't have a mate? Because I don't have much of a career. Oh, boo hoo! Look at my Facebook, for crying out loud! I have friends. I travel. I'm healthy. I have fun. I have a great church.

I can write it off to depression and PTSD, but sometimes I think it just gets down to forgetting to be grateful. How long ago was it I realized that no matter how much anybody has, there will still be an infininte amount of stuff he does not have. Even Bill Gates doesn't own Jupiter, can't go to the moon, whatever. If you look at what you don't have, you're looking at the hole and missing the donut.

I need to look at the donut more.

Words from C. S. Lewis

But if you are a poor creature -- poisoned by a wretched upbringing in some house full of vulgar jealousies and senseless quarrels -- saddled, by no choice of your own, with some loathsome sexual perversion -- nagged day in and day out by an inferiority complex that makes you snap at your best friends -- do not despair. He knows all about it. You are one of the poor whom He blessed. He knows what a wretched machine you are trying to drive. Keep on. Do what you can. One day (perhaps in another world, but perhaps far sooner than that) he will fling it on the scrap heap and give you a new one. And then you may astonish us all -- not least yourself: for you have learned yoru driving in a hard school.