gratitude

Today I did Pilates from the server.

It was weird: a couple of the girls in the background were wearing olive green unitards that were cropped. A capri unitard? I ask you, what could be more ridiculous? I

It was hard: I didn't know all the terms, and just following was hard. The instructor wasn't going particularly fast, but of course they gave the most camera time to the girl that doesn't sweat and has perfect form in front, instead of the girl behind who was doing the modified version (what I really needed to see). I honestly just gave up and laughed at myself and my flailing efforts a few times.

It was good: I felt better afterwards. I felt taller, lighter, and just a little bit better about myself. Of course, I need a mat. The example people were on oval dais-looking things and it reminded me of the post-baby body workout Mom used to do. I would watch it with her sometimes to see the cute babies. I still sometimes have the theme song, "The twoooooo of us...." stuck in my head.

I am grateful for a body that can, over time, get stronger, even though often I fret because I am tired. So often at the end of the day I feel like a dishrag that has been wrung out to the last drop. I feel emotionally and physically "done." Luckily for me, HH says "he's never done" and so he encourages me to keep on going, to keep on trying, and to keep on doing whatever I can to make my life better. Although I am not grateful for the fatigue I suffer, I am grateful for the strength of character that dealing with the fatigue has given me.

I recently read a talk that posited an interesting idea: instead of being grateful "for" things, we should be grateful "in" whatever circumstances we are in. It's fairly easy to count your blessings when they are readily apparent, and when the good times are rolling. But when you feel cold and rainy inside, and you feel like you do not even have one parade float inside of you, it is so hard -- extremely difficult -- to feel like you want to be "in" anything at all -- much less to be grateful for it.

I have been there, in the cold and dark emotional places of the world, where you feel like your emotions are wrapped in sludgy jello and you're so emotionally drained you don't even care if you feel anything ever again.

I have also been in a place of incandescent happiness, of joy, of laughter. Each time one of my boys reaches out to take my hand and holds it longer than necessary, I am buoyed up. My little IPGM is growing up so fast, and he listened to one of my boys air all his sorrows and grievances (which are no fault of his own), and I almost cried, I was so grateful for his love and affection toward my boy who has hurt so much.

I am grateful for choices. Most particularly, I am grateful for the choice I have to love freely, unconditionally, and to love people for all of the good things they are and do, even if I don't love all the things they do all the time.

Having my HH and my boys has healed something inside of me, and made me stronger, more loving, more accepting, and more grateful for the small things, like little tendril curls of squashes and melons, four-inch-long slugs, tree frogs, paved roads, rain, and the mail.

I am more at peace (generally) than I think I have ever been. It is beautiful, and although my level of gratitude ebbs and flows depending on how well my children listen to me, how tired I am, and other factors, I hope I will be able to look at this time if I am ever in the dark and remember all the love and affection in my life.

Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and are ready to take Christmas in stride!