NaBloPoMo 2018: What I’m Learning
When I’m sick the sinus congestion often resists the efficacy of all medication. I lie awake at night mouth breathing, almost choking every time I have to swallow my own secretions. Those are the times I really appreciate when I’m well. The past year, even though I am mostly recovered from knee surgery, I’m still always aware of my one-sided non-normalcy. When I do my single leg exercises, it’s staggering how I can just do it on the right, and on the left I honestly struggle, as if I could never do some of these things before. This morning, driving the kids to school and then myself to work navigating slush, sleet, poor visibility, and the inevitably slower traffic, I was grateful that I could simply push the ‘SNOW’ button on my center console and suddenly I had a 4-wheel drive. You can actually feel the incremental increase in stability and traction—amazing! Thank you, my engineer friends and family!
Last night was the first real snow of the season in Chicago. Part of me still hates living here—I absolutely abhor the weather. But today I found myself grateful more than annoyed. My kids are old enough to get themselves out of bed, dress, groom, and feed themselves. We all leave together, and though that morning time in the car can be groggy and silent, it’s still time together. I drive a car I really like to a job I really love, where I work with a team of generous, funny, kind, and collaborative people. I have this really warm Land’s End parka with the big, foofy faux fur hood, and I can walk from the parking garage to the office in total comfort on most cold days.
I have job security, health insurance, a great house (with reliable heat and running water, a home gym, and plenty of space for us all to both spread out and gather together), more books than I can read (right now), two healthy parents, a boatload of amazing friends, a universe of information at my fingertips, digital connections with people all over the planet whenever I want, and a phone that takes and sends pictures, for crying out loud. I don’t have a formal gratitude practice right now, but holy cow, this is a lot to be thankful for.
Not sure what makes me think of the things we take for granted: Our health, the people in our lives, our homes, our livelihoods. Think of the thousands of people devastated by wildfires all over the west this year. In the blink of an eye, imagine all your possessions and the physical spaces of so many cherished memories—all memories themselves. Imagine your sister, daughter, son, nephew, best friend–missing. When did you last see them, talk to them? What transpired between you? Imagine going about your life, assuming you can handle flu if you get it, then an hour later feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck, then dying of flu a week later.
I’m not trying to be dark or macabre here. I’m just noticing how much I have, and how much I don’t truly appreciate it most of the time. I try to be present to the kids as much as possible, engage fully when they talk to me (and fail more than I want to admit). I really notice their smiles and laughter. I look through my Facebook feed for pictures of friends and their kids. I stop to admire flower buds every day in the spring, and bugs on the sidewalk. I have gotten better at seeing the trees turn gradually green in May and golden in October. I see pictures of the kids as toddlers and it feels like a hundred years ago and just yesterday, all at the same time. And don’t even get me started on photos from high school, college, and med school—OMG we were kids!
Another day tomorrow. Who knows what will happen, how my life could be turned upside down or inside out? Or not? Will it feel mundane or miraculous? I’m learning—reminded, really—that most days, I get to decide. That’s pretty groovy, I say.