Grateful

For 8 am on a Saturday morning, the house is very quiet. Fynn is sleeping. He had a big night. He broke his arm and it was midnight when we started getting the cast. As I sat in the emergency waiting through the process and absolutely helpless in it, I recognized how complex life can really be. We are born into this world in a very violent and painful way. We take falls and usually get up and keep going, sometimes we get stitches or casts. Sometimes it's a virus or bacterial infection and we take drugs. For the most part we are quite resilient. And yet, there are still those things that can happen that can take our life away in a moment. Hitting his head instead of landing on his wrist could have meant a very different outcome.

I watched my child smile and tell his story, chuckle and engage with the doctor, and I could have been focused on disappointment and fear. Fynn will not be able to continue the ski Fridays at school, nor will he play hockey this term. He will really not like that. He will no longer be able to participate with the snowboard league. I have never had a cast, but I will bet he is going to go through some discomfort with it. None of those things mattered. All I could really see was that he was breathing normally, moving pretty normally, (except for the arm), smiling and alive.

I end so many of the Yoga classes I teach asking the participants to cultivate a sense of gratitude for their health and their will and determination that brought them to class and through class. Sometimes it even sounds contrived to me. As I sit and try to do the same thing, it can take work. Last night despite it being midnight, despite my own fatigue, despite the potential to feel disappointment, all I could really feel was grateful. So very, very grateful. It did not take work at all. Sometimes I guess it is good to get a little shaken up.