The men’s 400 meter individual medley is on television and the United States just earned a Silver Olympic Medal! I’m sitting on the floor sobbing silently to refrain from waking my daughters. In the grand scheme of things, crying because I can’t run is void of significance. It has as much meaning as wearing foundation on a hot sunny day. But despite its insignificance, I still can’t help but cry. Because I feel so impotent. Because I’ve come to understand life is finite and what I may have taken for granted in my 20’s I now value in my late 30’s. Because I don’t know what is wrong with my foot and when I’ll be able to run without pain again.
There is a Spanish saying, No hay mal que por bien no venga, that my grandmother often expressed to me as a little girl. It’s hard to translate, but it’s probably similar to the saying about a silver lining. Because I obviously have to endure my current situation, I’ve no clue what may come of this? It would be easy to hypothesize, but my mind is filled with so many random thoughts, I’m having a difficult time organizing and differentiating between rational and irrational.
Inhale. Exhale. Live in the moment. Count your blessings. Inhale. Exhale. Live in the moment. Count your blessings. Inhale. Exhale. Live in the moment. Count your blessings.
It’s time for me to say goodnight.