I was going to write about money and economic insecurity today, because I visited my friend Fiona who legit lives on almost nothing and is going to be having even less coming in soon because the grant she’s had for a few years is not being renewed. So she’s scared.
Last weekend I took a pleasure walk for the first time in more than a year. My friend Kyle and I made it about a mile before my foot started hurting, not a ton, just enough to make me stop walking and call for a pick-up from Kyle’s husband.
God, seriously? WTF. The doctor says I have a herniated disc and shouldn’t sit on the newish white sectional anymore. Oy! Its fluffy fluffy fluffy luxurious deep down contours which require oh-so-decadent slouching are exacerbating a newish back problem.
There’s a whole lotta magic available to me, I’m just starting to see. For reals. Thing is, it’s not wave a wand and poof type magic, it’s more plod plod plod plod plod plod plod and, “Wow I’m not what I was before” magic.
So I’m looking out the biggish window in the front of our house, at the bushy green wall of ficus hedges we planted, and the ice blue pre-dawn sky above them. There are a few Dr. Seuss looking trees in the distance, pom pom puffs hanging from spindley branches reaching high in the sky.
My body and my mind feel like solid rock some days. On those days, there’s so little give, so little space, that it’s an effort to simply walk. My back gets tight. I know it’s exacerbated by stress, or maybe even caused by stress.
As a quasi-agnostic, I don’t love the word miracles, but it has a much better ring to it than “really unexpected good things.” Court Surprisingly Good Things. Nope, doesn’t do it the same way. And when I look at the world through wonder-colored glasses, miracle-courting glasses, it’s a much better place to be.