Thursday, August 27, 2009

big yellow taxi

I've tried to write about this before, but I never feel that I've done an adequate job. therefore, I feel this desire to try again. and probably down the road, again.
it's this place of being where I feel so unscathed by life's tragedies that I have to brush aside the guilt that swims through my mind.
why am I so fortunate?
so healthy, so blessed, so very, very blessed?
I could have walked so many different paths in this life, and some I witness just seem so much more difficult and challenging than mine.
I'll return for a moment to adam, the wounded warrior I encountered on last saturday's ride. he has been through a version of hell, and after hearing his story and watching him climb on up the hill in front of us, bill and I sat for a moment in gratitude. (yes, while still pedaling up that hill.)
how dare we complain about the heat?
about discomfort?
about sore muscles or headaches?
here is someone---one of hundreds of thousands of people---who has lived a life of complete discomfort and suffered damage to his body in an effort to (I have to be careful here) support our nation's beliefs in right and wrong.

I live a sheltered, privileged life.
I get to go ride my bike in the morning, I can attend yoga classes to settle my mind and muscles.
I have a kitchen full of food and all the fresh water I need and a solid roof over my head.

I have friends with MS. I have a friend whose wife has ALS. I see people walking down the street who roll with the gait they've developed because one leg's growth was stunted. in my own business I work with a center for people with disabilities: adults who due to birth circumstances or genetics or accidents are unable to function well enough to have jobs in "the community" where most of us work and live and shop.

I want to live a long and healthy life. I want to age gracefully. I want to honor what I've been given by caring for myself. I never want to take even the tiniest aspect of my abundance for granted.

there's a song I love, have loved since the first time I heard it. written in 1970, it focuses on the seemingly eternal theme of taking things for granted. so I'll close with these lyrics, written by joni mitchell oh so long ago (though I must say that I now prefer the Counting Crows version with their "ooh...bop bop bop" addition):

don't it always seem to go
that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone . . .

1 comment:

Holly said...

don't it always seem to go
that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone . . . it's so true! :)