Sometimes I wonder what you read, what feeling you get, through the screen as I type. Can you feel the anxiety, sometimes? Can you feel the excitement? Tonight, I hope you feel like a warm fireside, sitting and chatting with a friend… so, come sit a while, and let’s just be two friends, sitting and chatting. And, so, hey, one of the friends happens to have autism, but that’s not really what this conversation is about, so for tonight, it doesn’t even matter. Tonight, let’s just be people.
I am a human of the very excitable sort. I get so incredibly wound up about future happenings… holidays, birthdays, things to do, and people to see. And then, when the so-anticipated event finally arrives, I shake in my boots and perseverate, no, obssess, no, rethink things like crazy, to the point that I can hardly enjoy my surroundings. I get so very worked up, and then I can’t enjoy myself. Then, I rethink the event in my mind, reliving it, for days and weeks and months later. I mean, I’m still known to burst out with, “We went to Disney World!” directed at Mom… and we did go… almost three years ago!
And while this is most certainly one way to do things, it’s simply not the way I want to experience the world. I don’t want to live in the has-beens and will-bes alone, but rather I want to take it what is. So, I guess you could say, I’ve been working on this, trying to relish the moments I’m blessed with rather than just rethinking, all the time.
Today was the perfect chance to practice. I hadn’t seen Leigh in just about a year and a week, and she came here today. She lives in LA now, and she was visiting family at home about four hours away, so good ol’ Leigh drove all the way up to Pittsburgh to exchange gifts and watch a movie or two with me. That is what you call a true friend, one who will drive four hours each way just to spend a half a day with you doing, well, nothing.
But, considering my new methodology for approaching life, was it really nothing that we did?
We ate at Chipotle with our friend Jen, which we can each do easily on our own, and I got agitated by the music and eventually asked to leave. No big deal, right? I mean, I always do that. I love Chipotle, but the music always grates on me after a while and I always ask to leave.
Then we came home and opened gifts. But gifts can be mailed, so that wasn’t what was so special.
Then we watched Singing’ in the Rain. On my broken couch. While Leigh worked on the sweater she’s knitting me. It was a movie we’d both seen, doing nothing unusual.
And while we sat there, on that couch, I closed my eyes and took a breath. And I realized, while we may have done nothing special at all, in that moment, the doing it together was everything.