Water, Walk & Write

Sleepless night, woke with worry.  Made for a groggy, heavy morn.  Five more minutes turned hour and the single ring of the doorbell pulls me from dreams. Walking to the window to spy the early morning visitor, my driveway and street is completely empty.  No one at the door.  Ok, Lord.  I get it…time to rise and shine.  But still, I don’t wanna.  Yet my three daily W’s await:  Water, Walk, Write.  So, I begrudgingly slip on my walking clothes (aka not my pajamas), tie my sneaks and start to move my legs. One foot in front of the other, then again and again.  

Not an overly long loop and definitely no fast pace.  Just some quiet time to listen and think without the visual of house to-dos surrounding me. Something in the movement forward is purging, shedding off the worry, the sleepiness, bringing clarity, refreshment. Adding a little bouncy pep, my head a little higher, eyes up instead of down, I continue forward.  

Sneaks on pavement, breath in lungs, how ‘bout some gratitude? Thankful for uplifting time shared with another boutique owner yesterday. Offering so much insight, stuff I knew, but didn’t implement. Hearing it from another owner solidified things…iron sharpens iron.  Blessing prayers over her and her business.  Up ahead is a neighbor with a soon-to-be married son.  The beginning of a long life of ups & downs together… Prayers for a married heart, solidarity, compassion, sacrifice. Not  always roses and baby’s breath, marriage is all things wrapped up together good and bad and loving each other still.  Up ahead, a new graduate just returned from along trip abroad and heads into her debut college days. Prayers for provision, for eyes to see opportunity, excitement, perspective. Another beginning.  Baby steps into a long life of learning and growing and stretching.

Worries long gone now… just a faded echo. Thankful for legs to carry me, for fresh breath in my lungs, for a heart and mind that can chat with the big guy over neighbors, friends, and loved ones. Back home, a mild sweat and breath increased, next up: Water and Write. Pouring myself a big, icy glass of water, I sit and begin to tap letters into words. Looking forward, out the window, the rain begins to pour.  More perfect timing.   Now He’s just showing off. 

Battle of Gratitude

In the presence of a dear friend, wave after wave of good news, hard fought goals now realized, freedom and celebration just within reach, the inner option to spiral into despair was only a breath away. Smelling its bitter breath and biting words: you’ll never succeed, her life is so much better, she’s so much more organized and driven, you aren’t working as hard… the battle required a quick pivot from desperation to inspiration. Choosing instead to soak in the positive truths, I sought gratitude: Grateful that hard work produced sweet rewards, grateful for children finding their way, grateful to have such a big-hearted, creative and inspiring friend, grateful for stolen moments to sip tea together. 

The easy option to remain in neutral allowing the dark untruths to take root, shifting to gratitude takes work. It seems whatever you focus on builds upon itself, good or bad, I prefer good. But good isn’t easy.  Good takes work. Some days, the only gratitude I can muster is the toothpaste on my brush… but it builds. Slowly at first, but then… gratitude for the minty taste, clean teeth, a fresh morning kiss, a husband that loves me, a new day, fresh possibilities, food in the pantry, a warm breakfast tea, the perfect mug, a flitting cardinal against grey trees, the sound of the washer, clean clothes, new adventures, a dog that takes quick cold-day pees, warm house, electric, a functional heater,  working from home, flexibility, avocado toast, a second cup of tea with a friend. Building and building until there’s no room for self-doubt, fear, and despair.

Despair now departed, listening with a grateful heart, newly inspired by my rewarded friend. 

Quietly sipping and smiling, today’s battle of gratitude silently won.

Praise

My previous pain gauge was childbirth. “Will this tattoo hurt? I've had two children, nothing can hurt as much as that”. My new bar has become watching a parent die...nothing can hurt as much as that. It'll be four months soon, and I can still picture her taking those final breaths...arching her head back against the top right portion of the pillow. Glad I am the only one to carry that image. Glad that it was only me...no wailing, no gnashing of teeth on her part, mine, or any other family member. But looking back, the room itself always carried a peaceful atmosphere. Those closest to me noticed I omitted obvious drama from my daily reports. It surely circled, but never landed in the room...hallway conversations, stressful briefs, worry, sadness, confusion. Her thankful mindset and the uplifting praise music set the precedent. Nothing else mattered.

Tapping into that same mindset on a daily basis is no easy task. The path of least resistance is to feel nothing...so easy to turn it all off and withdraw from every single thing. But what kind of legacy would I be manifesting? This being positive thing takes work. So, I take lead from my Mom...I play praise music. I've read that scripture is stronger than a double edged sword...able to cut thru bone and marrow. Wouldn't musical verse have the same affect? It speaks life and changes perspective...I've seen it happen with my children. Sour moods become helpful, lighter.

Regardless of my situation, regardless of my surroundings, regardless of my fickle energy level and mood, I have unlimited access to joy...anywhere, anytime. Instead of changing the situation, I change. I simply need to press play and offer up my praise...Thank you for my husband, thank you for my children, thank you for our health, thank you for our work, thank you for our church, thank you for our friends, thank you for the food we eat, thank you for our warm beds, thank you even for my dog. To that giant pile of laundry which will tie me to the washer all day long, thank you for the blessed abundance of clothing options. To the rain that so often falls in April, thank you for my beautiful green grass and emerging flowers. To the neighbor that never secures his recycling, thank you that we have healthy legs and hands to retrieve the clutter. Seemingly negative situations will never change...but my attitude towards them certainly can.