TRANSCRIPT

I’m Maggie Smith, and this is The Slowdown. 

At times when I’ve been overwhelmed, I’ve definitely said, “It’s always something”—or some version of that phrase. It’s the kind of thing you say when you’re grumpy, or burned out, or fed up, and then—you get yet another piece of bad news. The car won’t start, or the furnace is on the fritz, or your child wakes up with a fever on the day of your big presentation. “It’s always something.” And it’s true, if you think about it—there will always be another challenge around the bend. That’s not pessimism, it’s just… life. 

But I have to remind myself that there are always wonderful surprises around the bend, too. Good things, big and small. I have to remind myself to say “It’s always something!” in a different tone, and with a different intention. With gratitude! Because life throws us all kinds of curveballs, and some of them are flat-out amazing. Some of them are gifts.

Maybe a kind email or text pops up at that exact moment when you could use a lift. Maybe you’re offered an exciting opportunity at work, or receive some other kind of professional recognition—something you didn’t even know you were being considered for. Maybe a new friend—or a new love—arrives in your life when you least expect it. Maybe, after months or years of feeling stuck in some aspect of your life, you get unstuck. 

I don’t know what might happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. I can’t know! That can be a source of stress, but it can also be a source of hope and excitement. The future is full of possibility. Some of life’s surprises are heartbreaking, yes—but some are heart-repairing. Heart filling. Heart strengthening. I try to remind myself of that. 

As long as we’re alive, our luck can change. It’s always something!

Today’s poem shows up like good news on a bad day: you desperately need it, but you don’t expect it at all. It’s a reminder that joy can sneak up on you and catch you off guard. Be ready for it.

At Last the New Arriving
by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Like the horn you played in Catholic school
the city will open its mouth and cry

out. Don’t worry ‘bout nothing. Don’t mean
no thing. It will leave you stunned

as a fighter with his eyes swelled shut
who’s told he won the whole damn purse.

It will feel better than any floor
that’s risen up to meet you. It will rise

like Easter bread, golden and familiar
in your grandmother’s hands. She’ll come back,

heaven having been too far from home 
to hold her. O it will be beautiful.

Every girl will ask you to dance and the boys
won’t kill you for it. Shake your head.

Dance until your bones clatter. What a prize
you are. What a lucky sack of stars.

“At Last the New Arriving” by Gabrielle Calvocoressi from APOCALYPTIC SWING © Gabrielle Calvocoressi. Used by permission of Persea Books.