Tuesday, September 9, 2014

In Recognition of a Moment

Sunday evening I was driving home from my father's house. I was alone in the minivan because I was transporting the semi built wooden structure that will soon become my sons "big boy" bed. I had all the windows down so I didn't choke on the fumes from the wood stain. I had just dropped off my grandmother at the old person camp where she now lives. We had been at my father's celebrating her 85th birthday (somewhat belatedly) and my son's 6th birthday. 

While cruising down the L.I.E. thinking about no particular thing I was overcome with a beautiful, wonderful, feeling. Something that heretofore I'd only felt during specific moments of my life. So specific I can name them:

walking toward my then future husband at our wedding..
stolen moment in the elevator
is alway my favorite picture

birthing my son
baby is actually crowning at this moment.
I cropped my va-jay-jay out. You're welcome.


becoming a member of my coven
I borrowed this image from the internet.
I can't show you my dedication without a blood sacrifice during a dark moon.

after about 3/4 of a bottle of wine



most of my time at Pennsic...
 which had a lot to do with the above mentioned alcohol.



and at the peak of a really great orgasm.
you didn't think I'd post a photo of me orgasming did you?
I get pretty personal on here but really!?


I don't like new age speak. I suffer through a lot of it being a hypnobabies instructor and being a witch. Positive language. Positive thoughts. I do it. Because it is a good way to be and because I know for a fact that doing the opposite is not helpful. But theres a part of my brain that rebels and thinks its corny.

I am a struggling optimist and what I mean by that is that I hail from a long line of Jewish curmudgeons who have made pessimism and worst first thinking an art form. I struggle against this. I struggle to be positive. I struggle to appreciate what I have because I am never satisfied with where I am or what I have and it sucks and part of me hates it. Part of me likes it because that is what fuels much of my creativity. i.e.: I want X. I can't afford X. I will make X. But most of the time its pretty annoying to everyone around me that everything I lay my eyes on is instantly assessed as to how I could improve upon it.

But, in that moment. There was nothing I wanted to change. Nothing I wanted to fix or improve or even complain about. The only word that came to mind to describe what I was feeling was: Gratitude. 

I was in that moment, for no particular reason, feeling that universal love. Feeling appreciation for my life. Feeling gratitude for the little things that I usually feel guilty about not appreciating. 

My grandmother was diagnosed with stage 4 lady parts cancer a few years ago and yet we just celebrated her 85th birthday and for the first time in my life she lives so near me I can pick her up and drop her off! I was hauling a bed for my son that my father spent two days helping me (re: let me sand stuff and sweep up) build. My belly was full of a delicious and lovingly prepared dinner that my angel of a step mother cooked. How many people can say that entire sentence with utter sincerity?

I felt grateful. I felt happy. I felt high. I felt connected to my life and the world. I felt like I was in the right place at the right time. I felt the love of the people in my life. No wine necessary.

So, in that moment. That perfect moment of happy gratitude in which I was self aware enough to notice "hey I'm feeling that thing I usually only feel when I'm drunk!". And since I usually post things that I'm bitching about I made a promise to myself to document it. This miraculous good moment. So I wouldn't forget it. So I would always know I am capable of it. And, maybe it is just the start of something. Maybe years from now those moments will be so frequent and familiar that I will look back at this post and remember that dark time in my life when those sparks of gratitude were so rare that I had to write a snarky blog post about it.