Skip to main content

The Unexpected

 


The Unexpected…

As I lay in bed this morning, missing the sun’s transformation into the day. I breathed, then I thought to myself. This thought arriving once again, ‘Is it the longer you live the more likely you think you won’t die? Or is it per chance we are so living busily, that we don’t reckon with death? Is it that those of us, most of us have not known eternal illness of some sort? Or, is it our arrogance and self-imposed importance that we mustn’t ever die?’

Every day I awaken, I reckon with death. Or so it has seemed more frequently than not in the last thirty years. Or perhaps only increased over the last thirty. Yet the disturbance of peace, has been the reckoning with the inevitable I’ve had since I can remember. You don’t have to be sick to have it. You just have to recognize that you are alive, and time is ticking. And that you’re here for a reason and you’d better make certain you don’t waste it. At least, that is if you’re me, and you know you do know better.

I ponder, does everyone or most know better as I do? Perhaps it is what I’ve witnessed in the past. Sometimes been a part of. But I digress. I have witnessed people shaking off thoughts of the inevitable. It’s as if they are immortal. And I could venture to say that is true for most. It’s statistically the ninety-three percenters. They are the ones, who do not believe that they will suddenly stop this earthly breathing thing. I, me, I marvel at it. Especially, when I awaken. There are times when I’ve had to literally pinch myself and whisper, ‘I’m alive. I’m actually still here’.  And that fascinates me. The fascination herds my gratefulness and renders me enthusiastic. Even, when there appears nothing left for me to be or do, here now on this earth. I somehow find something.

Something is something. Time is ticking. And I know it and have always known it, since I’ve had a memory. The moment I awaken and feel the conscious breathe of being awake once again, I say, “Wow.” In a soft whispered tone to my soul. I turn to the two plants by the window in the east of my bedroom, thanking them for the greenness that they provide for our living. I go through my disciplined rituals of stretching in bed, then resetting and making the bed, gently spraying the plants before I collect myself to the progression I seek in this life, in this day.

Progression. This new day will not be what you think it will be. It will not be yesterday. Nothing, but nothing will be ever the same.  As it shouldn’t be. It should be different. Because you learned something the other day. The unexpected I pray, is not a horror show. I hope for the best. And I know to make every second count. Every thought must be with a progressive notion and in a progressive motion. I am far from perfect at this. It takes practice. Yet I set the stage and aim in that direction from the start. As the day changes, I change. It is all I can do to ride the wave of the unexpected, when the aim is progression. ---Jody-Lynn Reicher

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Completion of Humanness

Completion of Humanness As we arrive to the completion of the first year without Norman, I had decided long before he'd passed that I would continue to do things certain things he liked yet could no longer do. I decided I would not take a day off of fitness.  I would run at least for 500 days in a row. I began that in early 2020.  I'd not be concerned with the distance I'd run. It was the very thing I convinced Norman and the thing that mattered to him, from the very first discussion we had August 11th, 1981, was fitness. I loved that he was a College Boy. He loved that I was a Marine. We tickled each other's soul with such admirations. Later fitness continued as an old discussion from 1994 ...getting outside and to run no matter what. I would say to him, "Run 200 meters, then 400 meters. If it doesn't feel good, stop. Turn around and walk back home and know you did your best. That is all you can ask of yourself." I said this,  knowing he would get dow
2 comments
Read more

In My World

As I finish putting away the week's groceries, I contemplate other's lives. Aside from my two daughters,  I consider what may be other's lives.  How they have conducted their lives over the past two years.  This is a thought not unusual for me to have. Yet, it occurs more often than not. Especially  now, as the population is probably feeling ever more irked. Regarding perhaps. their illusion of any lack of their freedom. But isn't that what life is about? The illusion of who we are. What we are about. Where we stand on the planet. Who we love. And who loves us. Our significance. Couldn't we imagine if this were all just an illusion? Sounds like a "Twighlight Zone" episode, perhaps. My aim here, are the thoughts of reckoning. I'll explain why I'm claiming such a thing. For about twenty-eight years of a career in dealing with injured athletes,  pain patients, chronically ill and the terminally ill. I found that there were many people who lied to
Post a Comment
Read more

It's About the Soul And...

  ...perhaps the soles of our shoes. My father-in-law used to say the feet are what soldiers depend on, as we do food. He said that to me in 1985 as I stood in his home office.  My husband, Norman was a shoe guy. And it was all about the soles on the shoes.  For me, the way I have stayed on my feet was soul deep. Sometimes praying every step of the way, to not fall over out of exhaustion. The approximately 170,000 miles of running, many of which Norman had witnessed or known of. He wondered how I stayed standing working on my feet all day. Only to come home, and go for a second run at midnight at times.  Often Norman would give me a lecture on good shoe care. It was about the soles of the shoes. He'd point out stitching on a shoe that was done wrong. Therefore commenting, "...giving a shoe less time of wear on this earth."  He'd remark quite often. "You have to buy good quality shoes." I have to say, there was absolutely something comedic about his shoe obse
Post a Comment
Read more