Making sense

Anne Lamott, on writing ...

"We are a species that needs and wants to understand who we are. Sheep lice do not seem to share this longing, which is one reason why they write so little. But we do. We have so much we want to say and figure out.”

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Prioritizing to a count of four

Within the last three days, I have learned that two women (around) my age have died suddenly: one from the flu, the other from a heart attack.
Of course I am freaked out. The hypochondriac in me immediately goes on high alert: What were they doing that I might be doing? What did they have that I might have? Too much Starbucks? Too much exposure to children? Job loss? Too much waistline? That weird vertical earlobe crease?
And then the realist in me kicks in and I do some 4-4-4 breathing, which a counselor taught me to do years ago: Inhale to a count of four; hold the breath for a four-count; exhale to the count of four.
I cannot even fathom making out my New Year's Resolution List for 2015, including such usual resolves: eat more vegetables, drink more water, sleep eight hours and then WHAM!! being hit with sudden death/unplanned death. No one writes: Don't die in 2015.
Oh. My. God.
Oh. My. God.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
***
Life. Wow. Full of surprises and heartache and good chocolate and food poisoning and ten thousand great things and another ten thousand shitty things.
Makes a person rethink her existence, and the planning that goes into living. Am I really in charge?
***
I am in charge of prioritizing my life's joys and stressors, that I know. I can choose to wake up feeling happy; I can choose to watch a cartoon instead of the CBS Evening News; I can choose the broccoli over the banana pudding; I can choose to believe that good things happen to good people.
Until they don't.
I can choose to google the shit out of Why a 50-year-old-woman dies from a heart attack?, or I can choose to sit in my comfy reading chair with a cup of hot tea and an excellent book. Which action will cause me the least amount of stress?
Which future job will cause the least amount of stress? Would I be happier ringing up people's groceries or returning to the classroom? Becoming a nanny again or getting my real estate license?
For now, right now, I am choosing my reading chair and a new book. Also, four calm breaths.





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