The lens through which we perceive
colors everything.
When I’m happy,
I take things in stride
and put things in “proper” perspective.
“Proper” meaning realistic –
not distorted
not over-blown
not leaning toward the negative.
But….
Oh my….
When I go to my dark place,
When I look for things
to make me sad
and mad
and despairing,
it’s so easy
to go down the unlighted rabbit hole
and clutch the demons to me.
This year,
I was haunted by the ghosts
of Thanksgivings past.
This year,
I failed to revel in the moment.
This year,
I obsessed over what was,
not the joys of what are.
Dwelling on the fact
that I’ve got
more yesterdays than tomorrows –
Missing my husband over the weekend –
who was recovering from pneumonia
1000 miles away –
only intensified my funk.
I know I’m not alone.
Visiting the local liquor store
the night before Thanksgiving,
the aisles are teeming with shoppers.
The lines are long.
The carts are overflowing.
All are intent on finding the right brew
to induce the right mood:
Tito’s Handmade Vodka
Malibu Coconut Rum
Clearly, I’m not the only one
yearning to be free of loss and regret,
itching to cut loose,
itching to have
a rip-roaring grand time
with our nearest and dearest,
as we break bread –
but not our bond –
during the holiday weekend
of Thanksgiving.
I aspired to rise to the occasion.
To be:
more accepting of the ravages of time,
more adaptable to what is, not was,
less reflective and more participatory.
Most years I manage
to carry it off.
This year, I didn’t.
But next year….
Well, next year….
might very well be different.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
PS: As memories of the holiday weekend faded, my spirits began to rise. You might say, “My mojo returned.”
Once more, I’m smiling. I’m energized. I’m excited. And why not? Tonight starts the beginning of another family-filled weekend: my grandson’s Bar Mitzvah.
For me, the reality is there ARE less tomorrows than yesterdays. That’s why I’m no longer squandering a single day.