An allegory

There's this house.

It's a beautiful, old house. But, it's not been perfectly maintained over it's many decades. The paint is pealing on the shutters. The brick front steps need cement.

Overall, it's a solid house, if not a little ragged looking on the outside.

I can see through the big front window. Inside, there's a large group of people, and they're mingling and talking with each other. 

Some are doing things: Cooking and baking and crafting and sewing. A few have glasses of beer or wine or whiskey.

All of their tasks seem to be slowly turning the ragged feel of the house into one of warmth.

While they seem happy, the people inside also seem stressed. You can see the worry lines on a few of their faces.

However, the front door is open, and while a few people glance at that door, no one walks toward it. It might be tough sometimes, but it seems like everyone inside the old house is working together.

And I'm outside, looking in, describing what's happening, but feeling like I'm not doing a very good job of it.

I want to be inside, doing work, being part of making the house warm.

But like it's been for almost all of my life, my place is outside. Looking in.

And so I keep looking.

Daily prayer

I don't recall what grade I was in, or what teacher it was, but we would start class every day with this prayer:

In formal circles, it's known as the Serenity Prayer.

Whatever teacher that was also told us, grade schoolers at St. Ursula's in Parkville, Md., that this was also known as the Alcoholics Anonymous prayer.

Despite the odd pedigree attached to it, I remember thinking as a grade schooler that it was a very comforting mantra.

I saw the prayer the other day, written onto a Pewtarex plate, while waiting to do an interview. I took the above photo.

I felt like I had to take the photo. It's like I was being reminded of the things I've been taught in my sundry religion classes over my lifetime, be they in the classroom or in the pew or somewhere else.

I'm not going to get into the arguments over what religious tradition is correct. I'm not even going to get into an argument over the existence of God. I'm going to focus on this:

Sometimes, life gives you challenges. You've got to know that some of those challenges you can master. Some you can't. And you have to figure out what category your particular challenge falls into, often on the fly.

This is the essence of our human existence. And we share it with each other.

Be serene, and we'll make it.

Is this real?

I had off Monday. 

My company, Journal Multimedia, parent of Central Penn Business Journal, was closed to observe Presidents Day. 

Before she left Friday, my boss at the business journal actually told me, "Remember not to come in on Monday."

I thought for a moment that this couldn't be real. 

I'm not going to lie, as a daily newspaperman my entire professional career, this feels … strange. 

This is the first time since I was a teenager, if not longer, that I've had off because the day was a federally recognized holiday (other than Christmas and New Years, and that's only because The Evening Sun didn't publish on some of them).

I've had off holidays, but it's been through a quirk of scheduling. Otherwise, I've had to talk to folks picnicking on Memorial Day, or hunting Easter eggs on Easter Sunday. 

Or, sometimes, I've had to call the coroner about a deadly crash on Thanksgiving. 

A day off with the rest of the 9-5 crowd is a change. 

Like it's a change for my old boss, Marc, to move from his job as editor in Hanover back to the main offices in York. 

Or for my friends, Caitlin and Brendan, to welcome their first child in August. 

It's the one lesson that's always been hard for me to learn: Change is the only constant. 

It never gets a day off.