Every now and then in yoga class, the instructor reminds us to be grateful for our ability to move as we do. Each time I think of Danny.
I saw him just last week. His inability to move is still and always so difficult to watch. Having lost control of the left side of his body from his stroke (as well as use of his right eye), he walks – very slowly, unsteadily, and painfully – with a cane. I am amazed at his determination and persistence, how he climbs into our car and walks relatively long distances even though he’s suffering. I’m so sad for him, that it is so grueling for him to get anywhere or do anything. And I’m reminded that I need to continuously be grateful for my ability to move.
I can walk. I can run (even if I pass almost no one). I can get into and out of my car with ease. I can do yoga and manage to hold most poses, at least somewhat. I have two arms and hands that work and two eyes that see. I can climb the stairs, hike a mountain, bend down and pick something up, do the dishes, fold the laundry, hug a friend with both arms. I have a great deal.
When I stop and think about it, focusing gratitude through something as simple as my ability to move grounds me in the moment and in how blessed I am. How blessed life is. At some tough moments recently, I found myself, almost accidentally, voicing a new mantra. “I am so lucky,” I heard myself say. That point of view always eases my issue, or at least my struggle with the issue, and brings me peace.
I am so lucky. I am so grateful for my ability to move.
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