(I was side-lined yesterday by a mild stomach bug, so I'll be making up for not posting yesterday with 2 posts today.)
"There but for the grace of G*d go I."
I know that I have lived a very fortunate life. Born in the US, to educated parents who valued their children's education, who were not alcoholics or drug-addicts, who instilled in me a strong work ethic, who taught me the value of a dollar and of saving a dollar.
These are things over which I had no control. They weren't my choices.
Like any young person, I made some choices that weren't terribly smart. But fortunately, I didn't like the way cigarettes made me feel, and I wasn't exposed to hard drugs, and I didn't like the way alcohol made me feel, and I didn't become pregnant before I was emotionally and financially ready to welcome a baby into my life. These choices were ones I made that somehow worked out for the best---that didn't leave me sick or destitute or addicted or dead.
Throughout my life I have lost friendships and loved ones. Both of my parents have been diagnosed with cancer (breast and melanoma), and both are survivors because their cancers were caught early and they had the money and insurance to seek and receive adequate health care. There will come a time when I will lose them, but I would prefer this course than for them to lose me. It would kill me to lose one of my children, and I would never wish this on my own parents.
My children are, thus far, healthy and will hopefully lead long, productive, mostly satisfying and mostly happy lives. I am doing what is in my power to ensure that this happens, but much of it has little or nothing to do with anything I might do or not do.
At some point, D or myself could be diagnosed with cancer or some other kind of life-threatening illness, and I hope that I show courage and wisdom in the face of it.
I have dealt with my own emotional demons, and while I know I will never be cured, I also know what I need to do to stay healthy. I know that being open about my struggles and my medication has helped numerous friends. Even though for many years I hated my mood disorder and how it made me suffer, in a way it has been a remarkably positive transformative element in my life.
Perhaps it is because I look at life not seeking "the best" life has to offer, but "better than what I have now" that keeps me engaged in every day thankfulness. Perhaps it is because I do not wish to waste resources or spend thoughtlessly that helps me to be thankful.
Being thankful is being mindful, being reflective. Being aware of what I think and say and how I act. Being aware of how little my life is, how my choices have had some but not as much impact on my life as what I sometimes think they have had.
Being aware that it has been through g*d's grace that my life has moved along as it has.
"There but for the grace of G*d go I."
I know that I have lived a very fortunate life. Born in the US, to educated parents who valued their children's education, who were not alcoholics or drug-addicts, who instilled in me a strong work ethic, who taught me the value of a dollar and of saving a dollar.
These are things over which I had no control. They weren't my choices.
Like any young person, I made some choices that weren't terribly smart. But fortunately, I didn't like the way cigarettes made me feel, and I wasn't exposed to hard drugs, and I didn't like the way alcohol made me feel, and I didn't become pregnant before I was emotionally and financially ready to welcome a baby into my life. These choices were ones I made that somehow worked out for the best---that didn't leave me sick or destitute or addicted or dead.
Throughout my life I have lost friendships and loved ones. Both of my parents have been diagnosed with cancer (breast and melanoma), and both are survivors because their cancers were caught early and they had the money and insurance to seek and receive adequate health care. There will come a time when I will lose them, but I would prefer this course than for them to lose me. It would kill me to lose one of my children, and I would never wish this on my own parents.
My children are, thus far, healthy and will hopefully lead long, productive, mostly satisfying and mostly happy lives. I am doing what is in my power to ensure that this happens, but much of it has little or nothing to do with anything I might do or not do.
At some point, D or myself could be diagnosed with cancer or some other kind of life-threatening illness, and I hope that I show courage and wisdom in the face of it.
I have dealt with my own emotional demons, and while I know I will never be cured, I also know what I need to do to stay healthy. I know that being open about my struggles and my medication has helped numerous friends. Even though for many years I hated my mood disorder and how it made me suffer, in a way it has been a remarkably positive transformative element in my life.
Perhaps it is because I look at life not seeking "the best" life has to offer, but "better than what I have now" that keeps me engaged in every day thankfulness. Perhaps it is because I do not wish to waste resources or spend thoughtlessly that helps me to be thankful.
Being thankful is being mindful, being reflective. Being aware of what I think and say and how I act. Being aware of how little my life is, how my choices have had some but not as much impact on my life as what I sometimes think they have had.
Being aware that it has been through g*d's grace that my life has moved along as it has.
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