A Little Bit of Traction

Photo by Cristian Escobar on Unsplash

This morning I woke up and realized…I had been breathing throughout the night without even having to think about it. It just happened. Miraculous. The enigma of life.

A strange thought. Ridiculous. But that was what I awoke thinking, nonetheless. “Thank you for letting me breathe, all night long. Thank you for this morning.”

I go through periods of anxiety. Always have. I have these days, or weeks, or months, where somehow my brain gets on a trend of leaning into fear or worry. Of overthinking things. Of analyzing everything around me. It’s exhausting, but it’s a pattern I developed at some point in time that’s nestled into the grooves of my mind, and if I slip into those trenches, thoughts recycle and it’s tough to get out.

Not everyone can relate, maybe. But I think in many ways, we are all the same. We “trend” in our thoughts. We get stuck in patterns. In habits of perspective.

For whatever reason, this morning started on a high note. A very high note. An “I’m so grateful to be alive” note. A melodramatic one as well, but for me, that’s par for the course. But I let it grab hold of me and I tried to settle into it as best I could without trying to lace my fingers around its neck and pin it to the ground. I try to let it be.

What are Kevin Spacey’s last lines of American Beauty?

“It's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes, I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much - My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst.

And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And, I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life.”

And now a joke…

‘ “I’m sorry” and “I apologize” mean the same thing. Except at a funeral.’

Everything in life is timing and context and interpretation. After I savoured that sensation of total gratitude this morning in bed, my own bed (not a hospital couch), under the sheets, I snuck out into the quiet of my house with a cup of coffee to bask in satisfaction. Mornings can be tough for many of us, but sometimes they are a haven of solitude for me. Before the day starts. Before the obligations begin. I sat at my dining room table and worked on a jigsaw puzzle. “Me time.” Happy New Year.

Then outside there echoed the sound of an ambulance. 7:00 am. We live up on the mountain, so it’s not common to hear anything aside from the falling of ice from the trees at this time. It struck a chord. A nerve. But strangely, not a painful one. Instead, it felt like a gift. A reminder – “look where you are, Shawna. That ambulance isn’t for you – for Violet, or Lucy. You are safe, and warm, and happy. And someone is getting the help they need, just like you did. Just like we all do.”

Nice thoughts. Good feelings. Emotions to acknowledge.

My computer “pings” me with email updates when I they come in. I won’t tell you how many unopened emails I have in my Gmail account right now (81,486, no joke…wait, 81,487), but let’s just say I’m a sucker for signing up for things. This morning, I’ve already received 5 from charities, prompting me that it is the end of the year and my support really matters. Boy, do I know it. Make-a-Wish, Canadian Cancer Society, Ronald McDonald House, West Coast Kids. Reminder after reminder of the impact I’m not able to make this year.

But because of this morning’s happy groove, it just feels good to get these messages and remember that they are out there doing what they do, helping others, feeding the train of hope and love. There is no obligation. No need to feel guilty. Just opportunities available to contribute when we can – when we all can – to nurture positive momentum in the world.

Anyway, 2022 was a YEAR alright. For all of us, in some way. We’ve all had our disappointments and fears, our transitions and changes. Our periods of discomfort or downright despair. But that’s every year. I love when the end of year marketing focuses on how we can finally leave this year behind and start a new one. Because this one was the WORST. Next year – that’s our year.

I just put up a promotion for my company to “Make 2023 Your Year.” But I don’t want the message to be focused on how this year wasn’t. I want it to be about the opportunity to focus on the year ahead. The open doors. The possibility.

A siren can be a call to panic, or it can be a sign of assistance. A morning alarm can be an abrupt alert to get out of bed and face the hardships of the day, or a reminder that you get another day – a day full of opportunity and surprises.

I ride a lot of waves of emotion – it’s just who I am and what I work with in this life. There are positives and negatives to being this particular variation of “crazy”. But I know everyone has their own version of “instability”. Good days, bad days. I just tend to overthink them.

But I also find that I often need reminders that I am looking at things in a certain way, and that there are other options. Other people out there, going through what I’m going through in some form, figuring it out and looking for an angle. Today, on New Year’s Eve (or maybe tomorrow), there’s usually some part of us that reflects and takes stock and tries to find a fresh way of approaching things. Changing diets. Changing habits. Changing careers.

Nothing sticks for good, but there’s always the opportunity to get some momentum going in a new direction. To get the ball rolling down a different hill. This morning, I was offered an easy opportunity to start digging a different groove. To allow the momentum to take me on a new path – one of upliftment. Of joy. Of new beginnings. A little bit of traction that will hopefully get things moving.

That’s what New Year’s should be about – finding a little bit of traction and allowing it to build on its own. No pie-in-the-sky obligatory goals. No impossible objectives. Just that acknowledgement of possibility, and a little push in the right direction.

Happy New Year. Or at least, Happy New Year’s Eve morning. That’s a good start.