Thursday, February 16, 2017

#Blessed

 
 
List the ways that you feel lucky
 
I have a cat who loves to be right next to or on top of me, and he purrs a lot. He also -- generally speaking -- likes other people. And he's mighty cute.
 
I have a boyfriend who's so patient I can't understand it, to be honest. He's so smart it sometimes makes me mad, and he has great fun hair and he's tall and sometimes wears red pants. When he walks into a room/bar/party/restaurant, I feel relief and calm and comfort. I can talk to him about pretty much anything, and he hugs me and makes me laugh at all the right moments. He can make popcorn on the stove, and he's willing to do most anything with me -- go to concerts of bands he's never heard, travel to the four winds, or wear Halloween costumes that were my brainchild. (He's told me I'm on my own when it comes to Celine Dion concerts and viewing Fuller House, however.)
 
My parents were, and are, beyond supportive. My whole life they have called me by pet names -- Mitsubishi, Bucket, Girlfriend, Peach, Honey -- and told me how cute and pretty I am. They have put oodles of money toward my education, food, shelter, car, phone, etc. They love that I am a writer and compliment my work; they could choose to be terrified about my financial future as an artist, but instead they think I'm on the right path. I know that I am welcome at any time to move back under their roof, and in fact lived there until I was 25. Though my mental health journey has been very different from their own, they have always applauded my decisions to go to therapy and to take medication. Mom sends me care packages several times a year, and cards with Starbucks money in them. She hems and repairs my clothes. Dad just gets me, because we are frighteningly alike. When they were in town last weekend, they bought my meals and paid for museum parking and train tickets and bought me books and a watermelon-painted suitcase from a thrift shop. Together, they show me what 40 years of love looks like. Thanks to them, I know that long-term love exists, and can exist in others, myself included.
 
I have a working body. I can walk, bend without too much creaking of joints, see, taste, hear, smell, and feel.
 
I have a car that still runs and is paid off.
 
I don't feel like I have to try hard to make friends. Strangers are often willing to talk to me, and I love that, because I love talking to them.
 
I am educated beyond the amount required by our government. And I have had some wonderful teachers and mentors throughout my days.
 
I have a full time job with benefits.
 
I have never been unable to pay rent.
 
Don't even get me started about my friends. My closest friends in this world live in Boston, Chicago, Memphis, Seattle, and Kansas City, but their distance does not take away from how loved they make me feel. It is such a privilege to care for them -- to hold their memories and insecurities and happinesses and fears; to know their idiosyncrasies and have a good grasp of the kind of things they need to hear at various times. Beyond those five superstars, I have SO many people who make me happy and who think I'm worth spending time with. I have an amazing family, plus friends who are family.
 
I'm content in the city where I live. I never have to check the weather, I rarely deal with gray days. There are so many places to get tasty eats and drinks, sing karaoke, shoot pool, blah blah blah.
 
Bethel! I love my church for so many reasons. I have been embraced by the people there, and they continue to embrace others who walk in the door. It's not a closed off community, and it is a safe, happy space where I am eager to be.
 
Brothers. I have three kind, funny, smart, creative brothers. They are not afraid to be affectionate with me, to say "I love you" out loud. They are wonderful to their wives and children, and put me up in their warm, much-cleaner-than-mine homes when I am visiting. I can call them for comfort and laughs, they will pray with and for me, and I'm just so lucky to be in regular touch with them as an adult -- I'm glad that during our past tiffs, we didn't tear each other to shreds.
 
I was introduced to a faith that made me interested in believing in someone bigger than all of this. And, thank the Lord, I was never pushed in a way that turned me fully off from it. I've had doubts, I've been extremely judgy of churches and church people, I've been bored, worried, etc. during my hanging around church and church things -- Bible reading, small groups. Even though I haven't "felt God's presence" a lot, or at least not in a way that I recognize, I have lost count of the times when I have been rescued by people and words of encouragement and warm meals and pets and laughs, and I have felt that that's been provided for me not just by the human vehicles who deliver them, but by someone who orchestrates it all. And I like that.
 
I have a large personal music collection.
 
I have a library card, and several of books on my own shelves. I am literate, and that is a lucky thing.
 
And, finally, I feel lucky that I feel called to write. And I feel lucky that people read my writing. There was a long time where I didn't see either of those things coming. And here they are.

2 comments:

  1. Isn't it great when we realize we have too many blessings to count? I know I often forget and feel alone and down, but reading your list reminds me of mine. Remember to come back and read your blessings when you need an extra boost! :-) Kathy

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