I woke up too late to write this morning, with just enough time to type the title I'm supposed to be grateful before morning hysteria took over. So, now, hours later, post yoga, iced decaf with half and half in hand (how did I not know half and half turned coffee into the most scrumptious cup of love ever?), I'm thinking that title is on the snarky side. It's completely contrary to what this time of year is about. And how I'm feeling now that I'm finally alone, blues on the radio, in my cozy apartment glancing at grey skies outside, piles of food to cook for tomorrow.
We host most major holiday celebrations, rearranging furniture so we can make our table big enough to fit everyone, and every time my family and assorted friends get together, we start off going around the table talking about what we're grateful for. Could be health, family, new projects, a new president. A new video game, a good haircut, being together. Having people to be with. Where we live, who we live with. I think someone was once grateful for purple. Watermelon. Chocolate tofu pie (you have no idea how insanely delicious it is).
And so, I'm thinking, what better place to acknowledge all I'm grateful for than here—if I went on too long tomorrow at dinner, breakdowns would ensue. And to remind myself, that even though my inner spin keeps reminding me how things could/should be better, different, I'm exceedingly lucky to be right here, right now.
Where to start? How about the fact that at 12:24 in the afternoon I get to sit and write? I've been married to a remarkable man I'm still happy to see every day, who makes this life possible for me. We met when we were 19, at college. Crazy, I know. The first card he ever got me said: "You march to the beat of a different drummer. In fact, the whole band's pretty weird." He gets me. He was the one who wanted kids, while I was completely ambivalent. And now, how could I possibly imagine life without Iz and Jack? They push me, stretch me, challenge me, all the while filling me with a love that's so much deeper, powerful, intense than I ever could have imagined. Last night I told Jack that when he was born it was like another room opened in my heart that's just for him. I hadn't known it was there before he was here.
We live in Greenwich Village. In an apartment that's not too big, but big enough. With a roof deck upstairs that looks out over all of downtown. The Hudson River. Empire State Building. During the summer after the sky is completely dark, whenever we hear a loud crash we run up 7 flights of stairs to see fireworks erupting in the sky, over the river, the library, the Seaport.
My parents are both still here. Married to other people who appreciate them. I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that my eclectic, drama-filled, unconventional family is always here for me. And I love love love that family functions are fun. People always stay far later than I think they will, sitting around, chatting and laughing. No hidden agendas. No people we wish we didn't have invite. Truly, for that I am grateful.
I am 45 and feel like I have so much more to do, to experience, to discover. FLOW has already upended my life and I'm thinking the ride's just starting. If not, I've grown so much through the process it'll take awhile to let it all settle in so I can take stock and figure out where I am. My first TV interview is this week. I have meetings with a production company about a FLOW film. My own little films got a shout out at HuffPo. I posted there myself. Last week I lived a dream-come-true book launch party. My dress was great. My hair stayed straight.
Yoga. I'm grateful for yoga. For the space, the quiet, the movement and music and energy of the beautiful souls whose words resonate far past time spent on the mat.
And then there are the remarkable people in my life. People I see every day. People I've reconnected with who've been gone for a long time. People I've never met but whose words and thoughts, support and enthusiasm continue to blow me away.
Are you still with me? I want to wrap up by saying I'm grateful for you. For the people who read what I put out into the world, open up their thoughts, share this this journey with me.
Peace and love folks. You're in my heart.
2 comments:
and you are in mine! How nice to have such a long list. I hope the next word in your post wasn't "But..." :)
Hope your apartment fits everyone tomorrow, and that you have a yummy day, and that everyone appreciates what you've done and who you are.
Very nice post. I sense your calm. I've read through your excitement, panic, stress, doubt, relief and joy. Calm is a good one to add to the list.
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