Everything happens for a reason. Look at the sunny side of life. Every day is a new day. Carpe Diem, seize the day. The list of cliches that I am actually living on a day to day basis is endless. So much so that I've actually had to be talked down from tattooing myself on several occasions by my level headed husband. (So maybe I won't want a Chinese symbol on the back of my neck when I'm eighty...sue me!) What's not to be happy about? Everything does happen for a reason, and I can't tell you how grateful I am for this experience. I faced death and sickness without the death part, and I can tell you honestly, no bullshit, I am stronger for it. At least 20 times a day I stop and I take a look at what I'm doing and thank God that I'm doing it. For example, I am so grateful to get back into my yoga practice. Even though I feel like my arms are going to fall off 10 minutes into class, I'm so happy to be there, sweating it out with my fellow yogis. Another example...I love doing my hair! I think the term "doing my hair" is a bit of an exaggeration, but I happily go through the motions of applying pomade to come up with my ever so coiffed fauxhawk. Last night I spent the evening with some girlfriends playing Bunco (get off our backs, we're in a recession) and I was happy to recount any part of my experience, answering questions and reminding them to check their breasts regularly.
I pose the following question: What if I stop feeling like this? What if one day I wake up and I forget to be grateful for my fuzzy slippers or worse, my husband who is peacefully sleeping next to me? What if Chicago drivers get the best of me and I experience the all too familiar feeling of road rage? I have a feeling pessimism and negativity tend to snowball, so I'm so afraid I'll wake up one day and take things for granted. But here's the thing: NO ONE CAN BE THIS UPBEAT FOREVER. I know this is a true statement, especially for Erica Unger, who tends to have a bit of a temper and lacks a little patience from time to time. I don't want to meet her again. I had 29 years of her and I like the new and improved version, even though her jeans are just a little too tight (understatement) and her downward dog looks a little more like a wayward dog. How can I ensure that she stays where she belongs, in bed, safely nuzzled under the covers on that ill-fated day, January 22, 2009?
While sitting here trying to think of a clever way to answer this conundrum, I realize... I honestly don't know. I hope I figure it out... or maybe that's the point. There is no great formula for living life to the fullest... you just have to do it and not worry about the days when you don't. There's not a spreadsheet or a post-it note in the world that's going to prepare me for the future (sorry honey, our monthly budget doesn't count). I just have be here and live it. You are all welcome to join me.