I had a big AHA moment yesterday. I suffer from worrying about when the next disastrous thing will happen in my life instead of simply enjoying the gloriously disastrous free moments. I had to explore this with my therapist (if you have been following along, I proudly admit to my need of a therapist) yesterday. I realized it is because since I was 10 I have been holding on to disaster after disaster starting with my parents divorce and most recently dealing with the complications in my marriage due to past sexual abuse. There has been an MS diagnosis, 2 boys who rejected my breast milk, infant febrile seizures, a grandmother, cousin and father in law’s deaths among others. Not to mention the community wide disasters of 9/11 and 12/14 (which hit particularly close to home as I grew up dancing in Newtown).
Have I totally depressed you yet? I can tell you I have been depressed by these thoughts. I have harped on these events so long that they attached to the core of my being. Every time something new occurred my thoughts were, “of course this happened”. Don’t get me wrong, I never lost hope. I just came to expect disasters.
How can I change my views? How do I stop expecting disasters? Looking back on my life I can see that surrounding those disasters were hope, love and light. My parents love for us kept them civil if not friendly with each other. The MS diagnosis was a catalyst that changed my boyfriend into my husband. My boys are absolutely, 100% perfectly healthy. As far as death goes, I am developing a healthy relationship with it. I mean, it is a fact of life that will never change. My marriage? Better than ever.
Disasters happen. All. The. Time. They will continue to happen in my life. But, they don’t happen TO me. They happen around me. It is up to me to determine how I want to view them. What I want is to enjoy now. Right now, my life is amazingly, joyfully, wonderful. I am going to relish that, soak it all in and attach it to my core. That way, when the next disaster occurs I will know that beauty is surrounding it. My thoughts will no longer be, “of course”, but “where is the light?”
Please accept this blog as my virtual hug to you.