Sunday was one of those days. We woke up, got ready for church, and Easton fell asleep right about the time we were supposed to head out the door. We were on our last diaper and out of laundry detergent anyway, so I knew after church we’d be making a quick Target trip on our ride home. When my little man woke up, I buckled him into the car for a short drive to the mail box. It didn’t take long to notice we had a flat. It took even less time to see the shiny nail head sticking out of the front tire. I parked, got out the Bob and worried our way to Target on foot.
When I made the choice to stay home last year about this time, we knew we’d have to live a little leaner. I clearly remember saying, “I don’t care if I have to wear the same pair of jeans a a few t-shirts for the next few years, it will be worth it.” It is worth it, but there are days when I question. Days when I walk to Target with a tiny hole in the butt of my jeans that I’ll need to patch and wondering how we will afford a new tire if my drive to the mailbox ruined it. Sometimes staying home, I feel so worthless. Devoid of value.
I spent a good part of the afternoon in and out of tears, while playing with Easton and doing laundry. When Aaron got home from work, he took the tire to a repair shop and they were able to fix it. Thank goodness. Thank God.
I thought to myself while I waited for Aaron to get back with the patched tire. I also started scrolling through the pictures on my phone and found these two from a few weeks back. Same day. Same moment almost. Different angles.
And I started thinking that maybe all I needed was a shift in perspective. So I did the typical attitude adjustment that we all do when we’re waiting under a dark cloud, frowning. First, I accentuated the positive. We are money poor. But I have been blessed with a little boy who is beautiful, healthy, curious, and who loves to laugh. I have a husband who is willing to work on things–the hard things with me. I come from a family full of love. We live in one of the most beautiful states in the nation. We are healthy. We can pay all of our bills on time every month. We never go hungry. We didn’t have to buy a new tire. It’s October. I’m finally feeling a little more comfortable in my role as mother.
It made me feel a little better. A little. Gratitude works better over time. This I know. One dose after a dozen hours of worry just won’t work. So I made a mental note to begin a gratitude practice again, and I kept thinking. If you look at this moment, captured in the first picture head on, it’s nice. Same too with life. If I look at my life head on, it’s nice. Not perfect, but nice. However, when you look up–that’s when things get interesting.
I know every Eckhart Tolle fan and Buddhist our there will disagree. I know that sitting with whatever it is in the present moment and accepting it helps greatly to quell fears. So we’re poor. Am I still here? Will life still go one? Is there still joy to be found? Yes. I am here, life will go on, joy can be found. No, sadness and fear and anger and anxiety won’t kill me. This too–is and shall pass. Ommmmmm.
But also. In this moment, I have a choice. To sit with what is–to notice how nice it is and smile sweetly. Or I can look up; hitch my wagon to a star. I can choose to invest my time and energy and creativity into creating something more. I think it’s time to start looking up. To start looking for what is possible instead of what I think is not realistic. To start using all of my nutritional and Ayurvedic and yogic education to begin health counseling. To teach more yoga. To share myself (which sounds better than marketing)–even if it means starting small.
Any readers in need of a change? I’m offering my services. Any readers looking to hitch their efforts to new dreams and possibilities? What are you looking forward to; What’s looking up in your lives?