Worry and Wisdom

I’ve been thinking a lot in the last day or two, waxing philosophical I suppose. This is a good thing.

Over the last month or so I have struggled with anxiety and depression, resulting from a cerebral bleed I experienced in January, and a corresponding prescribed medication. I knew the medication would likely cause depression, but the Neurologist seemed to think it was worth the risk to help with the headaches. I beg to differ.

However, it feels like I’ve finally returned to myself in the last couple of days, thank God. I can once again think clearly and let the creativity flow. I can gain perspective and see something other than the obstacles in front of me and the pain in my head. It’s a beautiful thing.

I don’t fancy time in those dark, shadowy places. It sucks the life right out of you. I am enjoying the sunshine. (I live in the Sunshine State, so I speak literally as well as metaphorically.)

I've been making my way through Ekhart Tolle’s “The Power of Now,” slowly but surely. (There’s only so much of that you can absorb when you’re down.) Anyhow, as I made this recent climb out of the darkness, I chose to let go of my fear of the future. I began to appreciate the NOW. It’s a cool thing when you catch a glimpse of it. I caught one such glimpse yesterday, as I watched my son ride his tricycle.

We left the house about an hour before sunset. He originally vied for a trip around the block, to which I agreed, in spite of being tired. However, he couldn’t resist stopping at this big hill of a driveway a few doors down. There were no cars parked in it. To him, it must have felt like being atop Mount Olympus. He smiled as he tackled it, destroying imaginary monsters as he rode, and having a whale of time. We never did make it around the block.

I stood there watching him just before sundown, noticing the way the light struck the sky and the trees. The colors were brilliant. A strong breeze blew, keeping the day cool and the hair off of my face. I was taken in by the beauty of the moment. I stood there breathing deep, soaking it in… letting go of my worries about what the neighbors thought of my 5 year old not having a bicycle yet, what if the people who lived there came home, how I was going to pay the bills, and what that guy I went out with last night was thinking…

I just let go. I was fully present.

I remembered what it felt like to be 5, to be in a better driveway than your own, and how much fun that was as a child. I relished the smile on my handsome little boy’s face, the green of the trees, the blue of the sky, the feel of the wind in my hair, the incredible beauty found even in a very “working class” neighborhood -- the joy of the present moment.

What a cool thing.

I have had this nasty habit of trying to figure everything out, of wondering what the future holds, usually picturing grim circumstances. This, I realize, must be stopped immediately.

How much joy will I miss in what I have now, if I am constantly preoccupied with what I don’t yet have, or what I think would be better? Far too much.

So I am not currently where I want to be financially. So what? It’s not like I planned on having a brain hemorrhage with no health insurance in order to spice things up a bit. It just happened. Focusing on the problem won’t do me a bit of good.

The fact of the matter is, I am lucky to be alive. I was walking around (slowly, mind you, and in a lot of pain) for several days before I even went to the hospital. Most people don’t live to tell about such things, and certainly not via blog on their computer.

I am blessed. I have no neurological repercussions whatsoever. Okay, so perhaps I’m a tad more forgetful than usual, but that could be a polish-blonde-in-her-late-30's-thing. The headaches will go away in time. I am truly a walking miracle. Thank God, or the Universe, or whomever you choose to thank. I’m just happy to be here.

So I am going to enjoy my children, my moments, my blog, and my life. I am going to let go of worry and just enjoy the ride. I’ll take some deep breaths, try some new things, and make some new friends. I will smile and I'll have faith. Because, as that little pigeon said in the animated film “Valiant,” I know that somehow “this is all going to work out brilliantly.”

And as each moment unfolds, I'm going to enjoy it NOW.