One of my very favorite things to do as I get older and settle into the comfort and grace of being "forty something" is to pause and reflect. This habit does not come instinctively to me. It is a habit I had to hear about over and over again. Something I was encouraged to do as a "deep thinker". A practice for those who desire personal growth put into place. I believed that reflection was something that was beneficial to our souls and perhaps even be the catalyst for that beautiful thing called gratitude and so I chose to embark on this habit regularly.
Almost one year ago, certain ideas and impressions began stirring in me that had never done so before. It was an affront on the physical, emotional and mental aspects of ME... of who I was, or who I thought I was. I began to experience a mini health crisis in the early spring that would not resolve until the summer's end and had me reevaluating my life as I knew it. I cannot say that I saw death as an immediate reality, but the sorts of sensations and symptoms I was having certainly led me to a place of realizing that I may be forced to live a life with less quality and control than I had previously believed. My mind was working overtime, taking cues from my body and I believed what they were telling me.
As I look back, I can see clearly that there was so much beauty amidst that pain. Isn't that the way life goes? Perhaps those few months of horror and struggle propelled me to a place where I was ready to make a change.
I can remember thinking that I was going to have to share something terrible with my children- something that would alter their relationship with me. Something that would stir up the most repulsive emotion I could imagine a child feeling toward their parent- pity.
That day never came and I cannot even put into words what that truth feels like. I suppose I can say that it felt like a second chance. Having a new lease on life changed me.
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