Grateful and comfortable.
I took a long walk along the James River today in Richmond, VA.
It's 70 degrees with no humidity. I walked with the river on my right and smiled as people jogged past me, or as dogs slowed to sniff my knees. I laughed out loud when one of the dogs ran up to me and sat down. When I put my hand out to pet him, he jumped up and spun around then ran away. His parents laughed too, as did two girls sitting on a bench nearby.
I stopped to touch a humongous river birch tree.
I walked about a mile and then turned around so I could take the river in from the left. Magnificent and beautiful.
After my walk, I texted my siblings and shared the first picture with them - telling them that I felt joy and gratitude today and I wanted to share it with only them. My brother texted back that it was snowing in Buffalo.
I probably could've found some joy and gratitude if I were there too.
I don't know if they know just how much I love and adore them. I assume they do, but I try to tell them as much as I can.
There are days when I get so consumed with insecurities, so consumed with work, so consumed with keeping the house clean that I forget about things like a long walk along the river. I forget about how easy it is to turn all of that off. I forget how wasteful it is to concern myself with trivial matters, things that just don't matter. I forget that love and gratitude is actually the answer to everything. Don't believe me?
Go back to a memory of complete embarrassment --- did you fly off a treadmill? Run into a screen door and watch it fall to the ground in front of you? Have a coughing fit in front of someone that was about to ask you on a date? Trip and spill wine on a stranger on your first date with a man you now adore?
I've done all of these things. I was mortified for some of them - - completely inside my head for hours after they happened. Then I shifted my thoughts. I sat inside each memory and saw them objectively. Then I giggled. I giggled until I belly laughed.
I still recall the coughing fit scenario and I cannot do anything but laugh now. I was 27 years old, working at a law firm in Baltimore, on the 23rd floor of a high rise building. Across the street was a coffee shop. I hustled over there at lunch time, started chatting with a handsome man who was about the same age. He got his coffee, but waited for me to get mine so we could walk out together. He held the door for me to get into our building, pushed the buttons on the elevator for me and let me go in first. We smiled at each other. It was inevitable that he was going to ask me out on a date. I took a sip of coffee, swallowed wrong, and then proceeded to cough for the entire ride up to the 23rd floor. The coughing fit was so bad that I had tears streaming and I burped at one point. He just stood there and watched me. When we got to my floor, I just walked out, waving good-bye as I coughed and coughed. I saw him a couple weeks later, and he averted his eyes.
Ah well.
But my point is that when I embrace the memory from a place of love for myself and my awkwardness, I cannot help but laugh.
I think about how the guy running next to me felt when I face-planted and flew off the back of the treadmill. He stopped running and tried to help me up, but you could see the laughter in his eyes. Of course, I giggled too, but I thought about it for days, so embarrassed until one day it struck me as completely hilarious, and I cannot bring back the feeling of shame anymore.
Life is good most of the time. I try to remember that whenever I can, and I try to breathe in the gratitude as much as I can, knowing that hard times will come --- they are inevitable --- but remembering that I cannot control them. I can only control what I know, what is in front of me now, what matters now, today, in this moment.
Gratefulness and comfort.
No comments:
Post a Comment