Thanks

There's this funny phenomenon that's been happening a lot lately: I wake up on the right side of the bed. I wake up excited to start the day. I wake up full of gratitude and feeling refreshed.

Some people are just born that way, as if their parents were rainbow unicorns whose lives were all cupcakes and sparkles. Granted, I may have appeared to be one of those people my entire life, but it was all for show.

At a young age, maybe 8 or 9, I remember someone using the word 'morbid' to describe something I'd said. Upon discovering the definition of that word, I took it as a compliment. I thought being obsessed with death and suicide made me complex. I'm not sure if my depression led to this this obsession, or if my obsession led to my depression, but either way it consumed my prepubescence and young adulthood. 

At the age of four I began journaling. I have a distinct memory of being in kindergarten, scribbling my thoughts in cursive and documenting my very deep, 5-year-old thoughts. Years later I rediscovered those journals... They were just scribbling. Not cursive. However profound my thoughts may have been, I was only five. I thought I could, but I couldn't actually spell, let alone write in cursive. 

I journaled a lot about my own death. How it would happen, when it would happen, even why it would happen. Suicide, kidnap and homicide, car accident, cancer, in my sleep, and many, many freak accidents. I often updated my 'will'. Who would get my clothes? My stuffed animals? My pets?  I planned out my funeral: my favorite songs to be played, my favorite colors worn, and no criers. No one was allowed to cry. 

You know, normal kid stuff...

Then I got older and surrounded myself with kids. Babysitting, nannying, volunteering at youth group, and just having friends with children. These kids are teaching me not only about childhood, but about life.

They run. They bounce. They dance. They tickle you. They do art. They laugh. They cry. They talk about their problems. They love froyo. They love, unconditionally.

You know, normal kid stuff!

They live.

For so long my mind was fogged. Maybe my alcoholic mind was set in the womb, a disposition bestowed upon me by ancestors past. Maybe it was all those weird obsessions. Whatever reason this fog settled itself over my life, I don't care to understand. It's lifted. I'm dumbfounded and grateful at the new light that almost literally now graces my life.  I am grateful for the children, friends and even strangers, everyone, who helped me realize how to live. 

Which is not to say that life is all sunshine and cupcakes.

Sometimes life is crap.

Our loved ones die. Children are abused. We have car problems. It rains when we have a day off and want to go to the beach. We don't have enough money. We have too much money (if that's really you're problem, good for you.) War, death, abuse, neglect… It happens.

I'm learning, because it is a daily practice, to let go and let things be. That maybe the world will never get better. That I may not have any control over it, no matter what I do. It doesn't mean I will sit back and let things happen if given the chance to 'right a wrong'. The one thing that we do have power over is our perception. We can choose to be brought down by the heart ache in the world, or we can let it drive us. Easier said than done. I repeat, it is a practice. We have a mourning period for everything and it's different for everyone. However, the time comes when you have to choose whether to take action or let these things take over you. 

My inspiration for this way of thinking was greatly influenced by Viktor Frankl. In YTT we had to read his book Man's Search for Meaning. I'll admit now, because it has been nearly two years, that this was the only book from yoga training that I read thoroughly. This man, this survivor, who lost his family and was transferred around several concentration camps, found a will to live. He found purpose, and he shared it.

It's those little things in life we need to cherish. Those things that we can find meaning in, seek refuge in, when we feel we have nothing to live for. When our greatest loves, parents, children, friends, pets, have passed, what will we cling to? Their loss, or their memories?

It's these little things I wake up grateful for. 

The amazing persistence of my friends who helped me find a will to live when I had none. The unending support and love of my mother. The way students, strangers to one another, will hold hands and smile at one another when I ask them to do a partner pose in yoga. PBR (owner of Derbyville and skater for RMRG) for putting my bearings in my new outdoor wheels. The apology from a driver who cut me off in the parking lot. These people are something to cherish, and long after they're gone, the kindness they shared with me will live on. 

I've been vomiting gratitude all over everyone today.

Share your gratitude!

(Thanks;)

Namaste:)

MMD