If one year ago a clairvoyant would have told me that my life was about to change—and change in ways that would not sit well with me, but that I would muck through—I would have believed it because I know how resilient I am.
But if one year ago the clairvoyant also had added that by today I would be carrying the tune of a lark, I’d have asked the medium for my money back.
I am an “Oscars” fan, and as morbid as it might appear to be, I especially enjoy the visual memorial tribute given during the award extravaganza, to the great Hollywood legends, filmmakers, and writers of the movies who have passed away within the last year.
That segment reminds me about the importance of living a full life and how fast time flies when you are too busy looking back at your mistakes or gazing too far ahead to the “what-ifs” in the distance to see that where you are standing right now, just passed you by.
The late great songstress Lena Horne, who died on Mother’s Day last year, was among the Hollywood legends honored during Oscar night on Sunday.
I remember her voice from when I was growing up as she was one of my dad’s favorite singers, but it was something she once said, and that was captured on the television screen Sunday night, that reminded me of what I believe in.
“It’s not the load that breaks you down, it’s the way you carry it.”
Anyone who knows me well knows I believe in the Universal plan—that mysterious pre-fabricated path that waits ever so patiently for its walkers.
And yet, as convoluted as I can be in deciphering the reasoning behind the change and curve balls on that course, I know that when the sun goes down, it’s my outlook towards it all that rules how I negotiate that road.
It might be corny or geek-like or an alien concept to others, but it’s at the core of who I am and makes up the marrow of my soul.
It’s all about attitude, sister. Every moment of every day. I’m not wasting my precious time in lonely dark corners of negativity.
I work harder at keeping my thoughts adjusted, than I do walking the chunks of fat off my thighs on the treadmill. Come to think of it, the calories I burn up using my cognitive energy should already have shaved the 30lbs off my Romanesque figure that the treadmill is supposed to do. Oh well.
The load that Lena Horne alluded to doesn’t have to be a pack mule carrying all the burdens in your life baggage.
The load doesn’t have to be anything more than the full cup of melted butter you just poured over the sumptuous rectangle of cinnamon bun dough rolled out on the bake board top—an hour before your company arrives—that you suddenly realize is the harbinger of next year’s house leveling renovation project, as it runs straight off the dough and onto the freshly washed floor.
I continue to learn my way to harnessing the power of positive thinking. I am among those women who despite their mothers’ influential and independent female role model teachings, often find themselves stuck in the archetypal muck of self-doubt. And believe me, I’ve had more than my share in the last 12 months.
Chocolate and potato chips tend to make those moments taste better, but the load I carry afterwards unfortunately means more treadmill time.
Yet here I am, my life moving in directions I never even conceived were possible. The Universe has bigger dreams for me than I could ever have had on my own. (But I’ll keep adding my two cents worth.)
One thing I know for sure is that I’m getting my groove back and among the treasures in this little Universe that I have to thank for that—in more ways than even I can imagine—is you.
