gratitude
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Day 74
Ever have a moment when you pause – or full out stop — and look around your house and marvel at the fact that it’s all yours?
I had a moment like that today. As I surveyed the first floor of our house and thought – somewhat in wonderment — that this grown-up house with dishes and a dining room table and a phonograph and clean dish towels and furniture is John + mine. We curated it (an obnoxious phrase but unfortunately, fitting). Not only that, but we use our pots and pans and dishes and dining room table. We even listen to records on the weekend while drinking coffee and talking about … well, everything and nothing and all the stuff in between.
It looks like a grown-ups house and I forget that’s what we are. I got my first vaccine shot today (because I know good people not because I was necessarily responsible in any way). I wished for my mother, or even just my husband — someone to be with me in case it was intimidating or scary or confusing. I couldn’t find the office when I arrived and walked around the entire complex in the cold wind, my poor feet dragging on the ground as I tried to walk faster than I am able. I wished for someone, anyone, to be there and be more responsible than me, to hold my hand and guide me. But I have passed that part of life and know, deep in my soul, that I have to own my self.
The shot wasn’t intimidating. It felt bizarrely fast and the clinic was disorganized but efficient. My arm aches and I hope that’s my only side effect.
Lucy is staring at me, wanting her dinner. Daylight savings sucks sometimes.
Xoxo, g
Day 73
When John & I moved to Chester County nearly six years ago, we didn’t know anyone. Well, my parents, but that’s it. We had no friends down the street, we commuted to work and we lived in a little bubble of travel, our selves, Lucy and our house.
It’s funny how community builds when you aren’t even looking. Today, my yoga community and the broader community of people with autoimmune disorders rose up and illustrated to me —yet again — how important community can be. How important community is — full stop.
I’ve never lived in any one place for longer than six years. I hit that mark in the apartment — the first place John and I lived. And this July, I will surpass it when we hit the six year anniversary of moving into our first house. This house. Our home. In a place we chose because it just felt better whenever we were here. In a place where we have built community — with locals and business owners and outdoorsmen and yogis and other transplants. Where our community rises up and carries us when we need support.
When John and I chose each other we had very little else but ourselves to bring to the table. What we have we have earned together, we have built together. When I look around at my life, I feel blessed beyond measure in my partner, in our shared vision, our shared likes and values and hobbies and ways we see the world.
I feel blessed in the people who have become our support network — our friends and neighbors. To have built what we have built from nothing feels like a miracle. And I am so grateful for it.
Thank you Amy & Susanne. Thank you so very much.
Xox, g
Day 72
As days go, today was a good one.
You can feel spring in the air, even though the wind whipped. We rode around with the roof open, wrapped in coats and hats. We drank coffees and talked about life and philosophy and Marvel and school teachers and life.
We spent time with friends and remembered what having dinner with people outside our Covid bubble felt like — conversation and laughter and strange coincidences. Promises to spend time together again soon. Hugs and handshakes and peaches and zucchini.
Derek Jeter and A-Rod.
It was a good day.
Xox, g
Day 68
There are moments in my life when I feel as though I am on bloodied knees, begging for mercy. And other moments when I feel blessed beyond measure in all that my life entails. It’s certainly a spectrum. (Sometimes daily!)
Living with an autoimmune disease has been one of the greatest teachers I could ever have asked for. It teaches lessons in patience and humility, in self-advocacy, in moderation, in values and what’s truly important. It distills life down and gives it clarity in a way that did not exist prior to the disease. It is as much a gift as it is a curse.
I remind myself of these things when I’m tired, when I can’t find the strength or the internal fortitude to keep doing all the things, day in and day out. There’s an awareness that is honed over years of being diligent about … well, life … that while beneficial, is also exhausting.
Practicing gratitude in the hard times is as important as remembering the truth in the good times. It is a balancing act, an on-going exercise in equilibrium.
It is always.
Xox, g
Day 66
John always says that he needs all four seasons.
And while I might not love the heavy, oppressive heat of the summer — it might cripple me and cause staggering physical ailments for me — I can say, I am mostly in complete agreement with him.
How can you appreciate the gifts of your life if you have never suffered? How can you see the sunshine in all her glory if you have never weathered a storm?
My homework — to re-write my story — has taken on a life of its own. It has challenged me to re-frame so many parts of my life. I think about why I believe the things I believe, what the roots are. It can be raw and uncomfortable to realize that sometimes, I don’t know.
I heard once that so much of what each of us believe can be attributed to “some guy said it somewhere?”. When I first heard that, I balked. I thought – I have beliefs that are rooted in my choices. But when I thought about it on a macro level, I realized that so many of us believe things and can’t actually trace it to the root, myself included. It’s just something we’ve always believed. It’s seemingly universally accepted.
It’s hard to break those ties. It’s hard to say, “Well, maybe what I believed isn’t actually an accurate reflection of me … perhaps it puts faith in institutions that I inherently don’t agree with ….”. It’s hard to shake off society and opinions and peer pressure. It’s hard to say — No.
Anyway. I love winter. I love spring and I especially love autumn. But could I love the exquisiteness of all those seasons if I also didn’t know summer?
Probably not.
Xox, g
day 45
Some photos with my forever Valentine in honor of the day. He is the thing I am most grateful for every moment of every day. My best friend, my deepest love.
Day 37
Some days just call for gratitude. For grounding. For perspective.
I am grateful for Dora, who comes and cleans our house. She is one of the best humans I know and I’m so glad she’s in our lives.
I am grateful for Starbucks Soy Chai Lattes. They are happiness in a cup.
I am grateful for my Dad. He is the best Dad and I couldn’t be luckier that he’s mine.
And as always, every day, I am grateful for John and Lucy. They are my family. They make our house a home. They are love personified.
Xox, g