A Healthy Life

[Guest guest]

Posted by: " * Vinay * " vinayspandey

 

- Story With Moral - Worth Reading -

 

A Healthy Life - Story by: Jaye Lewis

 

I have never been an athlete. I have never been much interested in

sports, ever since I stopped playing touch-football with the boys,

when I hit puberty. I have tried tennis. I hit the ball too high, too

long, and way over into left field. I have tried softball. Thank

goodness that ball is " soft " and big, because it felt just awful when

it hit me in the eye. I tried running, but I could not get anyone to

chase me.

 

I tried swimming, but even though I float like a cork, and have had

numerous lessons, I cannot seem to get over the idea, that I am really

going to drown. Finally, I settled on walking and for a number of

years, I walked 3 to 5 miles a day. I realize that there is an Olympic

sport referred to as " walking, " but when I tried that, all I succeeded

in doing was throwing my hip out.

 

I am definitely NOT an athlete, but I make do, especially in my

" mid-life " years. Which brings a question to my mind? When did I hit

mid-life? I remember when I hit thirty. I had to visit a grief

counselor, because I knew my life was over. I remember forty. I had to

see a grief counselor, the day after my first child graduated from

high school and moved out of the house, because I knew my life was

over. I remember forty-four. For some reason I thought my life was

over. Then I hit fifty, and I was all excited, because I was able to

join an organization called AARP. My husband was, especially, excited

because he is younger than I, and he got to join, too!

 

Fifty became the magic age. I knew that as long as I was in good

health, in this day and age, I probably had a good fifty years ahead

of me. Then came the asthma. O.K., I had that much earlier, but it

only became life threatening after fifty. Then came the fibromyalgia.

O.K., I had THAT earlier, but it is not life threatening. Then came

the arthritis, and, more recently, at fifty-five, came the diabetes.

Somewhere, along in there, I became very interested in

pharmaceuticals, and, finally, one day, I became free.

 

I began by noticing the sunsets, and I had the time to stop and really

wonder, at the beauty and the magnitude of it all. Then I moved onto

the sunrises, and I quickly found out that if I wasted the early

morning, I missed the loveliest part of the day. Then I began to

notice how grateful I was to be able to witness the changing of the

seasons. The first whisper of spring; the rustling of the leaves

beneath my feet, in the fall; that first breathless covering of a

winter's snow; and in the summer, all the flowers, and the buzzing of

a bumblebee.

 

When illness would hit me, I found that I, actually, enjoyed the

solitude. A time to reflect, gathers my thoughts, and prays, at

leisure. I found that I was " experiencing " this mid-life season, and I

was no longer missing every moment, shackled to the chains of worry,

and what " might " be. I found that worrying about tomorrow, only served

to make me overlook the blessings of today.

 

It is not always easy. A few loads of laundry, and a pile of dishes

can take an entire day; but then I do not push myself a lot. So, I

forget to make the bed, as I watch the rosy glow of dawn meet the

rising sun. I have time to walk our little, wooded acre with my little

dachshund straining at the leash. I get to read the " signs, " with my

Happy Dog, sniff the air, and gaze out at nowhere, studying the sky,

with the same intensity that my little dog studies the ground.

 

I get to meet the day, every day. I get to say " good-night, " to the

sunsets. I have studied a lot of sunsets, in the last five years, and

I have never seen two that were alike. I get to know my Creator as I

never have before, and I have gotten to make MY mind up, about the

mysteries of life; and I have grown certain, that all this was no

accident.

 

I feed the birds, and I take great delight in their multicolored hues,

especially in the spring. I drag a chair to stand on, so that I can

fill the feeders to the brim, myself. I say a little prayer, as I

wobble, a little cock-eyed on the chair, and I laugh, at myself, and

all the pretensions of my younger life. I take great delight in my

life. I thank God for all the precious little things of every day.

Friends. Family. Neighbors. And health. A health of the soul. For I

have come to understand, what real health is, and when you have REAL

health, then you truly have everything.