A couple of weeks ago I strained my back. I took a yoga class and turned in a way that I don’t think my body is meant to go. I felt it happen and it has been bothering me ever since. I’ve taken pills, gotten a shot, and had acupuncture. Everything is working, but sadly only temporarily. I probably need to go to a chiropractor, but they make me nervous.
I am trying to work through it and hope it is simple a muscle strain. I’m not a doctor but I’m guessing that because I was stuck on the floor this morning for 45 minutes, unable to move, it may not be a muscle strain. I am going to get it checked out and am hoping it’s nothing serious. By hoping, of course I mean that I went online and am convinced it is fatal.
Searching the Internet to research your aches and pains is not a good thing. If you Google symptoms, you will quickly learn you are dying and need to prepare your will because the end is near. If you have a headache, the computer will tell you it’s a brain tumor. If you have a stomachache, the computer will tell you it’s an ulcer. No good can come of this.
I made the mistake of looking up my back issues and within five minutes I was crying. While I am sure I do not have a rare form of cancer, or a spider bite has left baby spider eggs on my spine, for a minute I thought it could be true. Instead of continuing with what the Internet promises will be death by the end of the week, I’ve decided to count my blessings.
With the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks this week, I am reminded that life is unpredictable and my obligation is to find joy not prepare for doom. I have met a man who has shown me kindness in a way that has altered my worldview. My Englishman loves me in a way that gives me tremendous peace, and also scares me in a way that I find comforting.
Those of you who have been reading my blog since the beginning, know I have had my fair share of bad dates and have been searching for love for a very long time. By bad dates of course I mean I have dated human garbage. Actual human garbage people are wondering amongst us. Some dates left me certain I would die alone with 18 cats.
When you look for love and don’t find it, you think that perhaps you never will. When you are hurt by what you think is love, you question whether or not you are able to recognize love at all. When searching for love, you tell yourself what you think it is, and then when it is not what you thought it was, you assume you will never find it. Searching for love is exhausting.
I believe I have found love with the Englishman. Beyond my love for him, I love his daughters, and how he loves my son. I am not sure what I am doing, which is both sad and funny. Thank God he has chosen to love me and be supportive while I figure it all out. To be clear, I am not figuring out if it’s love, but rather figuring out how I got so lucky to find it now.
If you are a single parent you know there is added pressure. Am I bringing someone safe into the life of my child? My son wants me to be happy, so I wonder if he is telling me he likes someone just because I do. In the end my son is the great love of my life and so when I date, I am dating for the both of us, and the Englishman has won us over.
Last night my son told me that he loved me. He walked into the living room, hugged me, and said he loved me. He then went into his room and I waited for him to come back and ask me for money. He never did. I went into his room eventually and asked if everything was okay. He told me the day, September 11, reminded him to be grateful for his life.
We talked about the tragedy of 11 years ago and it was powerful. I ended up pulling him away from his homework and we went out for some yogurt. We got caught up on school and work, and got to talking about the Englishman. He told me that he loved him and was so happy he was in our lives. It was not about my boyfriend, as much as it was about our new family.
I am happy and blessed to have such a remarkable son, and grateful to have met a wonderful man with such amazing children. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that I believe in love because of my son, and I see what love is when my Englishman looks at me. No matter where the road takes us, the view will have been worth the trip.
September 11 is a day for reflection for me. I think about all that was lost, but also of blessings. I pray for the souls lost and feel an obligation to live my best life in their honor. I am reminded that I must always listen to my breathing, see color, feel joy, release fear, accept love, and pray with purpose. Life is a miracle and we all matter. I am keeping the faith.
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