“Why don’t you work on your blog? I like reading it.”
“Ugh. Because I have a bad attitude and I’m not doing anything interesting or anything worth writing about.” As soon as I say it I can hear my awful, negative attitude oozing from the words. As soon as the sentence is out there, I want it not to be true. And it doesn’t have to be.
“Maybe I should go on an adventure. Or find something that actually can that won’t leave me feeling like I’ve been run over.”
{Image via}
We are standing in a thrift store and I’m talking to a woman I’ve only met a handful of times, but am wishing I knew her better and as this conversation is going on, I’m creepily scheming up ways to find myself in her company more often. Which is probably even more creepy…since she told me she reads the blog, and I’m sure she’ll know this is about her. But I’m so awkward I throw caution to the wind.
We are there–in the thrift store–with another friend. And, little do they know, the two of them are pulling me out of a rut. An awful, annoying, terrible rut.
For a few days I’d been caught in a cycle of pain, Percocet, inactivity, anxiety and insomnia. One leading to the next, the next and the next. I stopped writing {which many of you know if my favorite activity} because, as stated, I wasn’t doing anything worth talking about. Outside of memorizing my daily verse from Colossians I couldn’t even bring myself to spend time in the Bible in order to write a good devotional.
But Saturday, as we scored major deals {more on that later}, I started to feel more like myself again. I was having a great time, doing something unique, getting an unbelievable deal. And my sense of adventure was restored. I was reminded that I am a creature of free will. There is no rule, fast and sure stating that I am to succumb to a case of the forever down-and-outs because I can’t do all the things I used to. There is no regulation causing me to mourn my old self. There is no reason I can’t come up with interesting things to do despite my physical restrictions.
And I have. Since Saturday when this all went down I have done all kinds of interesting things. I just haven’t written them because I haven’t had time. And when I had time I was too tired. I hope you’ll forgive me, but I’ll really try to stay more interesting and less David Coppery {disappearing and all.} Sometimes it just takes a minute to get back on track. Sometimes it takes a person, or people to get you back on track…even if they don’t realize what they are doing at the time.
The point is this. It can be really easy to stay in and be down. Especially when we are physically down. But there is always a choice. Sometimes that choice is very hard to make. Like really, really hard. It might even take all of the sapped strength you have to make a choice to take a single step toward your regular, happier self. Maybe so, but that’s always a step worth taking. Trust me. I get off kilter more often than I’d like and it’s a step I’ve taken more times than I can count. But it’s always worth it. Always.
Amy
PS–I’m eager to tell you about the outrageous scores I found at the thrift shop. But they just didn’t fit in with the vibe of this post. Come back tomorrow and I pinky promise you’ll be jealous. Unless you live in Practically Canada…in which case you’ll thank me.
