The old adage goes: Do you see the glass as half-full or half-empty?

It’s a simple, yet loaded philosophical question. I tend to be a half-empty person who tries (so badly) to be half-full person.

When roadblocks continue to hit (and isn’t that life?), I find myself trying to search for meaning in the madness, hope in the hurdle, and optimism in the outlook. I am by no means a power-of-positive-thinking person (though I read the book decades ago), I try. I do try. It’s okay.

What can I glean from the situation, no matter how frustrating or hurting it may be? Sometimes there is not much to glean, and all we can do is ride the wave. And that’s okay, too.

It’s okay.

Many advise to find the good in the bad. Sometimes, our minds or efforts are so deeply entrenched in the battle, we can’t locate that morsel or breadcrumb. It’s okay.

My computer is on the fritz - my lifeblood for work. It at least works while docked. But I may need to replace it to fix this issue. It’s okay.

My son’s secondary insurance continues to give us the red-tape runaround, five years into the journey of autism. We at least have the primary insurance to help. It’s okay.

My son’s yearly IEP meeting is coming up, his 3-year re-evaluation (it’s called a re-evaulation meeting after lots of testing by the school). In some cases, the schools take away the IEP, strip accommodations, and downgrade the plan because my child “is doing so well,” regardless of the IEP helping him access curriculum and succeed. I have a back-up plan in place (not an easy one and it deals with more money and more red-tape/headaches — any many of my friends are riding this hellish journey). It’s okay.

We are no longer utilizing ABA therapy (insert more insurance headache here), but my son has seemed to outgrow it. We’ll roll with this new transition. It’s okay.

Braces. Times two. Ugh. (and insurance circus — see a trend here?). It’s okay.

I had to swap producers for an upcoming audio book, and although amazingly talented, it means more ouch on the checkbook. They are going to make this book shine though. It’s okay.

Uncle Sam might consider my full-time author employment a “hobby” this tax season and I will need to justify it. It’s okay.

We need to travel to visit family during a very expensive school break. But hey, it’s Florida and my sons love manatees. It’s okay.

I’ve had weird heart flutters and tightness and pain, and the doctor ran tests. A mystery, but he is not worried. It’s okay.

I switched to half decaf coffee. The apocalypse has not arrived. It’s okay.

I swapped out my car sooner than I liked because the old one was making yet more noises. Got a new-used car. It’s okay.

I’m trying so badly to lose weight for personal wellness, and I’d finally hit my groove before the holidays, and now I’ve plateaued for 4 weeks. Ugh. I’m hangry as I write this. It’s okay if this is where my body wants to be right now.

My husband recently changed jobs (we think for the better). It’s okay.

I still miss a really good friend who I’ve parted ways with. It’s okay.

It’s okay.

Wherever I am in this life-journey, and I’ve had some really bumpy years — big big big stuff, and I’ve had some less bumpy ones — it is going to be okay. So I suppose that’s my attempt at the partially full outlook? Wherever you are in your life-journey, I am sending hugs that you too, find hope in the heartache and opportunity in the failure…even if it is from viewing through a rear view mirror.