On gratitude
It’s the week of Thanksgiving and I thought I might write some words on gratitude.
“The greatest response is gratitude, no matter how deep the mystery, no matter how dark the night.” - Carolyn Myss
Last weekend my family and I were on our way to celebrate my 36th birthday with plans to camp on the windward side of the island. A chain of events resulted in us being at a time and place that may be considered unfortunate, or fortunate, depending on how you see it. We were parked on Artesian Street in front of the Artesian Auto Shop, where our car just finished repairs. We loaded camping gear from the rental car to our personal car. I went to the passenger seat of the rental car to grab my purse. I sat down for just a few seconds while having a conversation with Billy, who was right next to me standing outside of the car. I was facing Billy when I heard a car screech and turned my head around in the direction of South King Street.
I saw a vehicle heading towards us at full speed. Next thing I know, I’m on the ground having difficulty breathing. Billy’s blood from his cut hand is dripping on my white T-shirt. I see the driver of the vehicle who crashed into us attempting to run away. I am trying to focus on breathing, while taking everything in. Life seemed slower. It felt like a long time before the police and ambulance arrived.
What sucked/sucks: Not being allowed to eat or drink for over 24 hours as I was examined and scanned (X-ray, CT, MRI) and waiting for a prognosis; Being bedridden; Spending my birthday in the hospital; Not seeing my son in person on my birthday; Feeling pain in my rib when sneezing/coughing/moving; Not being able to lift my son and hold him; Not being able to ride a bike or drive a car; Not being able to surf for several weeks; Wearing a neck brace all day - sleeping in it uncomfortably, sweating in it during hot afternoons.
To be honest, it all feels like the topping on the cake of an already incredibly difficult year.
At times, I feel overwhelmed by it all - fear, uncertainty, sadness. So what can I do? What must I do?
I must shift my attention and reread Myss’ words which are written on my kitchen white board: “The greatest response is gratitude, no matter how deep the mystery, no matter how dark the night.” Gratitude. It could have been so much worse. We are alive. We are still here. I am here. Billy is here. Obi is here. Obi is uninjured.
Gratitude is a practice. With any “practice” - the more you do it, the better you get at it. So I am grateful that we are safe. I am grateful for excellent hospital care and the compassion of nurses. I am grateful for the friends and family who have offered kindness, whether through words or deed. I am grateful that my pain is tolerable and I try to have faith that my body wants to heal itself. I am grateful for this break, a bit of rest, as I work too hard and too often. I am grateful for the evening, about a month ago, when we tested out Obi’s first surfboard at Waikiki - a 9’0” CatchSurf Odysea Log that we bought from an aunty at the Queens surf racks the evening before they were intentionally/tragically burnt down. I am grateful for those moments in the water, when I don’t search for answers, when I seek nothing. I am present in the moment and can appreciate its beauty, and I feel love. I am so very grateful for love, in all the forms love shows up.
