My writing group met this morning for the first time and we were joined by clear blue skies and a thirty below wind chill. I have a good feeling about this group. I have a good feeling about almost everything.
Yoga is every Sunday night, but I got home later than I intended and I was hungry and tired and it was cold outside. I called Jennifer and told her I wasn’t coming, but as soon as I hung up the phone, I felt a pit of guilt growing like a pearl in my stomach. The universe has been incredibly kind to me these past few weeks and I feel like it’s in part because I’ve been holding up my end of things. I felt like I was somehow letting down my end of the bargain.
I paced guiltily, trying desperately to think of something I could do as penance. Finally, I gave up and piled on every pair of sweatpants I could find, grabbed my keys, and ran out the door. Two blocks down the street and it became apparent to me that I wasn’t going to make it in time. It was a long walk and I’d already missed the bus.
And then I was at a stop light at John Nolen and I turned and a middle-aged couple was sitting in a late model minivan and, without even thinking about it, I walked up to the passenger side window. The woman rolled down her window and smiled at me.
“Hi! I don’t suppose y’all are going down Willy Street, are you?”
“Yes, we are…”
“Do you think I could have a ride up a few blocks?”
And these completely random people drove me to my yoga class.
And then I had the best yoga class ever. It’s only been three classes, but I can already feel how much stronger I am. And after class, I came to my favorite coffee shop and the Sunday night barista offered me some of his dinner for no reason at all.
I am trying to keep up my end of the bargain.
I’m so thankful for winter here, even when it’s feet upon feet of snow and thirty below. Boots crunching through the snow, I look around and all I can think is that, in a few short months, all of this snow will be green grass and flowers and a soft skirt will be swirling around my calves, flip flops slapping the sidewalk. And I feel so lucky to live in a place that can be beautiful in so many different ways.
At least once a day, as I’m walking down the street or waiting for a bus, I find that a smile has tip-toed its way across my face. It’s times like these when I wish I was a religious person so that I’d know who to thank. Instead, I just send up a little thank you like a birthday balloon and hope someone catches it.
p.s. This blog post later inspired a song which you can listen to here.