Each week, Samantha Lewis shares her insights on various topics, from exploring new health trends to reimagining personal growth.
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I was at my local pizza place on Friday night when I ran into a couple I hadn't seen in a while, loyal regulars from my previous restaurant.
He asked me the kind of question people ask without really expecting an answer.
How are you going?
Are you living the dream?
Normally, a question like that just bounces off you.
That night it sat in the air.
Earlier that day I had been at a funeral.
My friends had lost a father they adored.
I am lucky to still have mine.
At our table that evening, on one side sat a friend whose family member had simply rolled over in bed about a week ago and is now facing paralysis.
We are hoping and praying for any kind of recovery.
On the other side sat another friend, and we found ourselves talking about a traumatic event from a few years back, when her son nearly died from a brain abscess due to inadequate medical attention.
I looked across the table from the man asking me the question, to his wife, who I know has been through a rough battle with cancer over the last few years.
I asked her how she was going.
So fortunate to have had such a lovely night, I relished sitting there with two of my most treasured friends and their kids, everyone healthy and happy.
We were walking out on legs that worked, home to safe, warm beds.
I have been joking about the fact that I stepped in a hole while walking my dogs and strained a muscle in the opposite leg, the one that caught the fall.
“Getting old, how embarrassing” I say.
Underneath the joke, I am quietly annoyed because I cannot use my body the way I want to.
No Pilates classes.
Minor discomfort and inconvenience.
A couple of years ago I slipped over holding a water glass and it went through my wrist.
I could not use my hand properly for a long time.
Same feeling.
You never think about your wrist until you do not have it.
Why does it take an injury to make us appreciate what we already had?
That is the part I keep turning over.
Not the gratitude itself, which is easy enough to feel in the shock of a bad week, but how you hold onto it when nothing is wrong.
Because when nothing is wrong we go straight back to wanting more, measuring ourselves against what we have not got yet.
People talk about gratitude diaries, writing three things down each night, and they are right.
I would start even lower.
Start with the basics.
Can I smell. Can I taste. Can I see. Can I walk. Can I pick up my child.
Maybe it does not need a notebook at all.
Maybe it is the first thirty seconds of the morning.
Wiggle your fingers. Wiggle your toes. Look around the room. Look at the person beside you and hope they still make you happy.
Count your lucky stars before you are even out of bed.
The richest person in the world has nothing without their health, or without the health of the people they love.
Not a nice sentiment. Just the arithmetic of it.
So, yeah, I replied.
I really am living the dream.