Slow but sure

Snail making its way to somewhere else

The other day we had a light, cleansing rain shower. It always brings out these little snails, who then show themselves on the sidewalk where people walk, right there in harm's way. I took this little guy off the concrete and placed him carefully on the dirt and watched as he inched back out to inspect his new surroundings. These tiny little creatures are much easier for me to enjoy than their close relations, the slugs. I've never thought of slugs as cute, but I think this fella is rather fetching. He also reminded me of a message about perseverance.

Be of good cheer. Do not think of today's failures, but of the success that may come tomorrow. You have set yourself a difficult task, but you will succeed if you persevere; and you will find a joy in overcoming obstacles. —Helen Keller

If you want to be inspired, read Helen Keller's life story on Wikipedia here, or get a copy of her autobiography, The Story of My Life. Even though she was blind and deaf from the age of 19 months, she wrote 12 books during her lifetime and graduated from Radcliffe College as a member of Phi Beta Kappa. After reading that Wikipedia entry, I went to my local library's website to put a hold on her autobiography. I look forward to the inspiration I know I will find in her book.

Being one of those people who always seems to have at least two books going at the same time, I'm finishing up one that I have been reading on my Kindle at night when I climb into bed, Aging Well: Surprising Guideposts to a Happier Life. This book follows 824 subjects from their teens into old age. I will be sorry when I've finished, because it's been an interesting read, learning about what makes some people happy and productive during their lives, and others just plain miserable most of the time. One of the most important aspects of a happy life is beyond our control: being well loved when we are infants and young children. I was very lucky to have been so loved and so cherished.

I thought I was the center of the universe until my sister Norma Jean was born when I was two-and-a-half years old. I resented that little interloper, but then we ended up growing close and were inseparable as we made our way through our childhood. I have plenty of pictures of the two of us, and the memories I cherish of our time together, as we grew from young children to the septuagenarians we are today. We still talk twice monthly on FaceTime, which I think I need more than she does, but she tolerates me and is always available. She has been my guidepost throughout life.

There is a certain rivalry or competition between us, though, at least from my side. I always try to keep up with her activities and match them in my own way, and we both are avid readers and share with each other our latest finds. We don't enjoy the same books, however; it's been interesting to learn what each of us prefers. We both are fond of books about animals, but I love science fiction and she prefers mysteries. We are also both physically quite active.

Earlier this year, she had a routine colonoscopy, which was completely normal, no polyps, no nothing. Since I had been having some problems with constipation, I asked my doctor to schedule one for me, since I had not had one in a decade and a half. I fully expected nothing out of the ordinary; I remembered that the one I had in Colorado was normal, except I have a memory of the doctor telling me that I had some serious discomfort during it and that I was given a higher dose of sedative. When I had my own recent colonoscopy last week, I was surprised to find that I not only had polyps (all rather small, but still), but that I also have what is referred to as a "tortuous colon." Apparently this is rather rare, and one of my commenters asked if this means I can say I have "knots in my stomach." I smiled at that, because my research about this condition has taught me that it puts me at a higher risk for bowel obstruction and also suggests that it is probably the reason for my chronic constipation.

I had been a little depressed over it all, but until last night, I couldn't put my finger on the reason for it. It occurred to me that in my competition with my sister, I fully expected to be completely "pink and pretty" inside there, and I'm not. Once I receive the (hopefully good) pathology report from the doctor, I will breathe a sigh of relief, but I will still be a little sorry that my insides are not perfect. I keep forgetting to be grateful for all that is wonderful in my life and not holding on to what I have decided should be different.

And what do I have to be grateful for? Just innumerable wonders and delights. My knee, which has been giving me trouble, is getting better, albeit slowly. My friends are numerous and my dear partner with whom I share my life continues to give me lots of reasons for happiness. I guess one of my biggest problems these days is that I continue to push myself too hard, too fast, wanting to return to my usual activities before I'm actually ready to do so. And then being upset when I get injured again.

That cute little snail has a lesson for me: slow but sure is the ticket, not going into denial about what is really happening to me. I'm reminded that Denial is a river in Egypt (ha ha) and not a good coping strategy. Yes, I'm learning the lesson of patience, and perhaps that is a good thing for one who has never really learned it before. I've lived a good long time but have much to learn.

Well, one thing I've learned is that I truly enjoy my daily routine, and soon I will be able to return to it. My gym has been closed this last week and will open again after tomorrow's holiday, and my classes at the Y will also return to normal. I've missed them but my newfound yoga activities have taken up much of the slack.

Yes, I have successfully found more joy and happiness than I had before I began this post. That's one of the reasons I do this activity every Sunday morning. On top of all that, I've got other readers who tell me they look forward to my ruminations. Sometimes the magic works. With that, and one more swallow from my now-empty teacup, I'll begin the rest of my Sunday. I do so hope that you will find yourself in tune with your surroundings on this wonderful first day of September. Be well until we meet again next week, dear friends.