I have a bad habit (well, OK, maybe more than one…) of not learning when to stop. Maybe it’s a guy thing, or maybe it’s the curse of perfectionism, or fear of failure. Whatever the reason, there comes a time when a big stick from Above has to whack you full force across the back of the head to get you to slow down and listen. Now that I’m home recovering from knee surgery (just finished McCullough’s book on the Panama Canal: did you know that the French started the canal and the United States finished it? I had NO clue!), I’ve learned quite a lot from having to relax:
1) Even though I have great technology at my hands, it still doesn’t replace having friends: Although this sounds syrupy, imagine what it’s like to be lying on the couch and your colleagues pull up in the driveway to bring you dinner. Imagine what it’s like to have a colleague carry your materials from a meeting while also lending you crutches.
2) Even though I can get stressed out by all that I have to do in my job, I still have phenomenal colleagues to lean on: Not once have I had to worry about my buildings not having coverage–they took turns taking care of my staffs!
3) Even though I can’t be everywhere and every moment, email can: I avoided my email for three days, and when I opened it, I had 88 messages waiting. How phenomenal to think just ten years ago email was in its infancy–how would I have kept on top of everything going at the office?
4) Even though I stay busy, my beautiful wife of 25 years still never ceases to make me happy: What a patient, calm, and loving joy! While I was asleep in the hospital bed, she patiently kept vigil and never complained once. While I was adjusting to using a walker, she never laughed once. When I was wearing The Gown and struggling to hold the IV as I walked across the room, she never snickered once. Thankfully she didn’t see into the marriage future and see THAT–ugh!
5) Even though one thinks they can’t live without computer techology, they CAN take a break from it: I read a 600 page book in six days! My daughter in Lex., Ky, surprised me with a handwritten letter. We watched movies and didn’t rush off to finish paper work. I took naps in the afternoons and felt great. I listened to a Beethoven symphony and paid attention to how it was written. I looked at the clouds. And, even though I wasn’t “busy,” I felt GREAT.
6) Even though I still ache from surgery, I remembered to tell my surgeon today that I appreciated him taking good care of me: His smile was all I needed to know that he doesn’t hear this often. Who else, I wonder, never hears a thank you?
Yes, thank goodness for pain. It has made me remember what’s important.
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By: Becky W. on February 29, 2008 