It was one of those 'Full glorious mornings', the kind that 'flatter the mountain-tops', and 'kissing with golden face the meadows'. Ms. Wonder often expresses it that way. I don't know how she comes up with these things, but I love to hear her say it. She should start a blog.
Despite all the sun's flattering and kissing, I wasn't happy. I woke up feeling like I'd been abducted by Klingons, poked, prodded, and then disassembled and poorly reassembled, and then dropped from a considerable height to see if I was still functioning.
It wasn't surprising; I'd suffered from environmental allergies for weeks. First came pollen--flowering plants, followed by pine pollen, followed by live oak and Spanish moss. By the end of the first two weeks, I'd had the maximum dose for the average adult, and now I was just a teeny bit panicky, thinking my real problem might be hiding underneath the allergies, like anchovies in the Caesar salad.
I had no energy; I felt lethargic--too peaky to even go outside. I couldn't walk down the hallway without careening off the walls. I decided it was all too much, so I took it to a higher power. Fortunately, Ms. Wonder maintains an open-door policy at all times.
I wasted no time complaining, squawking, and grumbling about how bad I felt. I'm not certain that I didn't kvetch. I'm not at all sure what the word means, but I suspect it's appropriate, given how often I hear the word used in similar circumstances. Hell, I even had a headache, something not part of the standard issue for me.
As I walked to the bedroom, I thought about how I'd been the picture of health only two weeks ago, and now I had one foot in the deep underground microbiome. It was a grating thought, leaving me with a feeling of loss, the same effect that Neil Young's Sugar Mountain has on me.
Suddenly, something popped! And it wasn't my ears this time! I remembered how it felt in third grade to be sat on by Butch Mason and have pine straw shoved into my face as the whole degrading spectacle was witnessed by my schoolmates. Those memories brought back my life-long motto, 'I will not eat pine needles!'
The thought was invigorating, if that's the word I'm looking for. Motivating may better express the energy I felt. I decided to shower, shave, and get dressed. Once I'd done that and gotten out in the sunshine and fresh air, I felt on top of the world with a rainbow 'round my shoulder. I was the old Genome again--the one I knew so well, and it lasted throughout the day.
Before bed, I mentally replayed my day and realized that the antidote that turned my day around was the decision to make the best of the moment. After all, what else was there to do?
The magic antidote, turning darkness into light, was having the right attitude. Will it always work that way? Who knows? But it's worth trying again. Perhaps you've had a similar experience that you can share in the comments. For now, the answer, my friend, is blowing in the autumn wind.
No comments:
Post a Comment