21325 – that’s the number of days I’ve been on this planet. I’ve stared at that number all day. How many moments can I recall from all those days? I remember the “big” events: births, deaths, marriages, graduations.
The ordinary days, the days that make up a life, those are the days I struggle to remember. I want to mark the simple joys, the grateful moments, the quiet sighs of contentment. The crazy laugh-out-louds of my life, the heartbreaking joy of the quiet rain or the smell of a gardenia.
This will be nothing formal or carefully edited. I’ve written blog posts before and often become stopped by the desire to be clever and good. I’m giving that up right now. Instead, I only want to briefly mark the simple pleasures of the day, the goodness of life.
I’ve kept written journals, but the past 35 years have been in front of a computer. Typing for a screen is my natural instinct. This is easy; thus, I hope will be easy to maintain. It is in the regular acknowledgment of the good, the gratefulness of my ordinary life that I live my best life.
It’s a drizzly rainy day. The kind of day that makes me sluggish and lazy. I’m sitting at work in front of a big picture window watching the water splash as cars pass. But the true view in front of me reveals the activities of my life.
The yoga calendar with a cow doing a pose to which I aspire. Yoga has become a practice that my body requires. Is this a byproduct of being old and creaky? It seems incredible to me, but my right foot starts screaming with plantar fasciitis or an aching arch if I halt this practice. What a treat it is to actually know my body this well.
A healthy eating guideline from my trainer. Healthy living, the mantra for the year. Working to improve those numbers of the routine yearly blood work. Thankful for the accountability and the workouts of #thegarage864.
And always the bees. I’m a worker bee. Always been a worker bee, but a girl can dream!