Brand New Day, Brand New Attitude
Yesterday I was in a funk. I wrote about the theft of my wedding rings and the keying of JJ’s car. It was cathartic to write about it.
Yesterday I didn’t feel like doing much. I wouldn’t say I felt sorry for myself, but I didn’t have any gumption. My chi was low.
No matter what negative things happen to you and around you on your journey, life continues to flow. JJ suggested we go out to happy hour—it had been the plan, but I was still kinda punky. But I took a shower, put on clean clothes, and said, “Let’s do it. Enough with the blahs.” We had a nice time—uneventful, but pleasant. I had mussels and garlic cheese bread; J had crab cakes, which I love, but I’m allergic. On the way home we stopped for gas and I went in the market to check it out because it said “MEAT” on the sign, and I wanted to see what they had. It was an old, rather dilapidated place, privately owned, which in this day of bright mega chains must be nearly impossible to keep going, especially given the economy.
Anyway, there was an old man inside with long white hair and old clothes pushing a wheelchair that held a severely brain-damaged/disabled young man. He was skin and bones and so twisted up that only his one eye stared at the ceiling. I immediately changed my attitude to one of gratitude.
My rings are just things. Big deal--I can get new ones. There are a lot of people who have real loss. Like the young woman who lost some body parts when she fell into a river or the model who walked into a propeller. How about the many people who lost lives and loved ones in the senseless cinema shooting in Colorado. And let’s not forget our wounded warriors. Never forget them.
Closer to my heart, my golfing friend Linda is caring for her husband who is suffering with inoperable brain cancer. My blog-friend Nellie recently lost both breasts to cancer. Another blog-friend, Sophie, still teeters with unsecure employment. My dear sister lost her beloved 13-year-old grandson Daniel Monday. He didn’t die, but he was removed from their home because he suffers from mental problems that haven’t been figured out yet and my sister can no longer manage him and his increasingly violent nature. She’s heartbroken.
Real loss. And these are just a few.
Have a great day, I know I will.