September 11, 2015
(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)
Today was the third day at the hospital—Hopkins—but no matter the quality of care or the friendliness of the staff, it’s a place most people would rather not be. Me too. And I’m certain David feels the same way. You give up a certain amount of dignity and privacy as people poke and prod you. You feel vulnerable and out of control. I admire the courage of my husband and his efforts to accept what must be accepted and to always be present in the humanity of the situation.
In our lives, there are passages we must navigate—some pleasant and some not. But no matter what, it is good to look for some small gift of pleasantness in every situation. As I walked back through the hospital halls toward the underground garage, I came across a lighted passageway that touched me, demanded that I stop and reminded me to accept the peace in that very moment. Golden late afternoon cast light and shadows in the hall and saturated my sense of being.
On the way home, I rolled down my car window and, as I maneuvered in the tangled traffic, I looked at each person I passed and listened to the blending of sounds surrounding me. On some surrealistic level, I saw and heard the world through them and was glad to be alive.
My gift today is bright passageway.
You can find links to my other posts on this project here: