Today I was jubilant to go upstairs. That might be an overstatement, but only slightly. Last week I was invited to a lunch meeting in the second floor of a building with a back entrance and wooden staircase. That morning I had injured my back by sitting in a chair with no lower support, and it took steely resolve to ascend
those steps. I gripped the banister and rested at the top.
I scheduled a massage for the next day, and used a homeopathic remedy. Plus I bailed on a few things.
A week later I attended the same meeting and practically pranced up the stairs. I can
walk, bend, reach and lift laundry without a hint of pain. It is a miracle.
Two weeks ago I had little to no appreciation for the ability to move, which is a failing on my part. This week I want to write a thank you note to Someone.
It seems that
losing is enough of a break in what is expected to make room for gratitude. Finding it again renders me several steps ahead of where I was before the gift went missing.