It's All Relative...

I’ve been thinking about how relative things are. This week has been a little tough and one day in particular was a bit rough for me physically. I felt pretty under the weather and my boss even commented that I didn’t look good. But, I made it through the day and came home – rundown, tired, and ill-feeling. I had to stop to rest a couple of times, just to allow my blood pressure to stabilize after standing up too quickly. Nonetheless, I had made it home without passing out or even coming too close to it.

As I entered my apartment, my roommate asked me how my day was and I said, “It wasn’t my best day,” and went directly to bed. As I was lying on my bed, however, after having taken off my shoes and gently setting my bag down, I realized that I was wrong. A month ago, I actually would have considered this one of my best days - a day when I didn't crash land on the platform of the metro or at an awkward angle on my apartment floor or bed. This was a day when I had the strength and energy and wherewithal to take off my shoes and coat after arriving home, rather than sleeping in them.

Isn’t it amazing how things are so relative? And how quickly we take for granted the very circumstances that, in another time and place, filled us (or would have filled us) with immense joy and gratitude? How quickly we begin to whine and complain about something that, viewed from a different perspective, would be considered a grand blessing?

At first, my pondering led me to conclude that it's all relative. That everything is relative. But as I lay there longer, I realized that, in fact, everything is not relative. There are definitely some absolutes. It's how we perceive and contextualize absolutes, facts, and occurrences that introduces a sense of relativity.

So, moving forward, I hope I will be able to keep a broader perspective, recognize the blessings that come, and enjoy them in every and any context.

In the meantime, I am so grateful that my bad days now are not nearly as bad as my good days were a few weeks ago.

2.3

That is the number of a miracle. A miracle in my life. It is the number of miles I jogged today - very slowly. It may not seem like a lot. And it isn't. But two weeks ago, when I was barely able to make it all the way home from work and did not have the energy even to eat dinner after doing so, jogging 2.3 miles was just a far-away dream - an impossibility really.

Nonetheless, today, after a long six hours at work and an even longer three hours at the doctor's office, plus about two hours of total commuting, I was able to do it.

I think I'm starting to get my life back.

72 Degrees?!?!

72 degrees is arguably the most perfect temperature. In the summer, we set our air conditioning to 72 degrees. In the winter, we set our heat to 72 degrees. Spring and fall tend to be replete with 72 degree days. 72 degree days are days when you can sit under the weeping willow tree and read a book while water happily skips over the rocks in a nearby creek. On 72 degree days, you don't need a jacket or long sleeves. On 72 degree days, you can comfortably indulge in ice cream, go for a jog, and have a picnic. "72 degrees" conjures up an idyllic sun-filled image of bliss. One that is not often seen in the dead of winter.

Except for today.

What a beautiful 72 degree day!