Lately, I haven’t felt like a winner. I’ve been trying to fake it. I’m afraid I’ve been too obvious. I’m tired a lot of the time.
“Get up and walk!”
That’s the voice I heard in my head this morning. It was biblical. I’d just shortened John 5:8. Given its potential I wasn’t going to ignore this command.
It has been almost three months since bronchitis moved into my lungs and set up housekeeping. It soon invited its buddy, sinus infection, to take up residence in my head. These two are horrible tenants. I’ve started the eviction process. It’s time for them to get up and walk as well. They are not going quietly or easily.
I’ve missed my walks, my strolls with thoughtful perception and insight as companions. My endorphins have felt unused and unwanted. Inspiration has played hide and seek. . . mostly it’s remained hidden.
I believe bronchitis to be a metaphor for something much larger, more symbolic. Life has left me breathless and weak. My life has been too small. It’s squeezed me in a vice grip of restriction, of limited possibilities, of questionable potential. I want to curse this pesky duo of illness but I know that no matter how unpleasant they both have been, they came bearing gifts. There is a lesson here. I have to open my eyes, my mind and my heart to see it. And, yet I resist. It’s easier to feel sorry for myself, maybe because it’s more familiar. It is very difficult to accept what is, as gift when it’s a gift you don’t want.
It’s the not wanting that causes the trouble. Almost all heart ache can be traced back to being dissatisfied with the way things are. When what I have isn’t what I want I make myself miserable. When I start accepting what I have with gratitude, there is no room left to be miserable. Everything becomes a gift.
They aren’t gifts I’d choose but the fact that life has served them up to me can be enough. I can accept what is as a starting point. It really is up to me to make something out of what I’ve been given. This is the place where true freedom is born. It is the smelter of life. This is the place where my soul is forged into something stronger, something better than it was.
As long as I resist, I am unhappy, miserable. Accepting is so much better for me. I don’t waste time cursing heaven. I’m too busy being engaged in the moment. All these moments strung together like pearls in graceful looping necklaces of time are my life. Fight them and I fight myself and the life that is meant to be mine.
“Get up and walk,” said the voice in my head. I did exactly what I was told. I got up and walked into the life I’ve been given. The winner is me!