My Life Is Beautiful

I've been feeling pretty shitty lately.

My business is in the red. My client's businesses are in the red. My outstanding new business proposals are going stale.

The season is changing and the days are shorter.

I rebuilt a bad deck, but the rest of the house is still falling apart.

I haven't seen any good friends lately.

It's all been sticking with me. It's hard to smile. It's hard to find joy.

And yet, this morning, I found it. 

I was directed in a guided meditation session to think of something that I am grateful for. I almost didn't make the session. It was one of those mornings where staying warm in bed was tempting. There have been a lot of those lately.

There is so much power in just choosing action over non-action. Things can change, subtly or abruptly, with one small alteration in your course of action.

I decided to drag myself out of bed and sit for the session. My day is so much better because of it. In a few short minutes, my perspective changed. I'm here, on this earth. I have my life. My life is beautiful.

Now the caveat here is this: I'm a huge fan and proponent of meditation. It has changed my life dramatically for the better.  But I'm not the best test subject for "just think positive" and all is well. 

I have this challenge with a bias toward the external, and I don't believe wholeheartedly in the idea that everything is perspective. I mean, the world around me can still seem to go to shit while my head swarms with theta and beta waves. Bombs are still dropping in Gaza while I experience profound inner peace. I have a hard time reconciling that.

So, I'm not sharing here some metaphysical experience. There was no astral projection or talking to spirits or any of that other-worldly bullshit.  I just took some time to stop doting on the negative, pause for a second, and reflect on what might be going okay instead.

I paused, looked inside, and asked: what do I have to be grateful for?

Then I listened.

I've gone through gratitude exercises before. I'm actually not a huge fan, personally. They've seemed sort of nice, but inconsequential. This morning was different. 

It was fast. It was powerful. I became consumed with such a sense of appreciation. It bubbled up, and bubbled up fast. Then it drew me in deep: Family.

I have three healthy, grounded, and kind kids. I have a healthy, grounded, and kind wife. My mom is still alive. My sister is alive. We see each other a lot. 

I am healthy. I am alive. Maybe just barely getting by at the moment, but I'm here.

What could be better than that?

That was all I needed. Thoughts and emotions of my family swirled around me and pushed any competing thought far, far away. 

One of the reasons a proposal is going stale is because the potential client is in surgery for thyroid cancer. She gave birth to twins only six months ago. Today she fights cancer. What the fuck do I have to complain about?

Recently, I sat next to my uncle who came down to watch my son play in a little league baseball game.  My uncle is wealthy. He made a lot of money his forties when his company went public. He retired immediately.  

We sat in the stands, and I shared with him that I felt like I was failing. My business wasn't taking off.  My house was quickly becoming too small as our children grew. Repairs were piling up as we lacked the resources to fix them. I had started to regret my choices -- living away from the center of Silicon Valley, leaving behind a well-paid executive position to risk doing my own thing, and more.

Without pause and with a tone of soft reprimand, he said, "Look at what you have. Your family is here...they're with you. Your kids enjoy you. You're here. You're together." 

Behind the sense of scolding, there was also a sense of deep, deep sadness.

I'm about as close to my uncle as anyone could be. He's not the warmest person to interact with. But, I care for him. I feel for him. I reach out. I've stopped in for coffee and really listened while he shared some painful emotions about his personal life. I don't think he gets that a lot. Maybe ever.

Yes, he built a big house, has a new wife, and travels the world. He doesn't drink much, doesn't numb his feelings. He's not hostile to people. He is not a miserable man. He's a decent human being. But I think he's sad. I think he's sad a lot of the time.

His house stands mostly empty most of the time. He's lonely. He's not alone. But, he's lonely.

This morning I found myself at the other end of the spectrum. I was, in fact, alone. I'm alone a lot. The kids are at school most of the day. My wife goes to the office. But I felt so close and connected, to my kids, to my wife.  I was alone, but not lonely.  I was in a state of deep and profound connection.

While in that state, I was able to take a good look at my life. And it was beautiful.