I paced my room looking down at the white carpet.
Winter darkness always makes doing things harder for someone like me; I love
the daylight and early morning sunshine. Even in the coldest winter, if I see
the sunrise peak under the bank of clouds, I am content for the day.
I studied my manicured toe-nails nestled in the carpet
before bending down and doing a few pushups. Sunshine may give me vitamin D, but
push-ups could give me that quick burst of endorphins and good feelings I
needed to get through this evening.
It had been a good day at the office. I had been
called in to substitute for another aide which meant I was able to work a whole
two hours longer this week than the usual six. It’s not much, but at least it’s
something.
One of the patients had recently damaged his
shoulder in a construction accident. The physical therapist was asked to, “keep
him limber,” for the impending operation by the doctor. It was hard to see the
man and his wife grimace in pain as I instructed his workouts, but they would
do him some good in the end. He is a fighter. He kept wanting to push his
limits to the point where I had to start being mean.
I did try to start out kind.
“Don’t push so hard. Go as far as the pain, flirt
with it, but don’t push it. Don’t slap it in the face.”
His lip twitched and his face contorted as he raised
his arms a little higher.
“Don’t push pain. Flirt with it. You don’t have to
go far.”
He nodded his head and raised his arms a little
higher. His teeth clicked and he groaned.
“Stop it! Go lower. You can’t go that high today.
Maybe after the operation, but right now that’s as far as you go.”
He was disappointed, but he lowered his arms in
relief. Some patients don’t realize they are actually hurting themselves by
pushing so hard, but they are still so inspiring in their determination to
succeed.
Finishing the push-ups with a gasp I sat on the
carpet and picked up the recently discarded classified paper. There were still
a few rentals available. Pricey, but available. Someday, when I have a second
job, I can afford to live under one of the yellow highlighted addresses I’d
been reviewing. I know living with my mom when I’m my age and I have a degree
isn’t exactly looked highly upon by society. People perceive this as lazy, but
those people don’t know my full story. They don’t know my mom is going to
charge me rent as soon as I can afford it. They don’t know how bracing it is to
always have someone to hug and roommates I love. They also don’t know that I
really do want to move out and get on with my life; it’s just not an affordable
option right now. And rather than going broke to make a point to people who don’t
actually care, I’d rather save money and be smart for now until the opportunity
presents itself.
I looked up at the solitary light bulb that bravely
pushed back the early darkness from my room. Better than a night light. Maybe I
should string up the Christmas lights I bought while in college? It is that
festive time of year.
Christmas lights and Christmas time is a wonderful
annual reminder of the goodness of humanity. Each light on a tree reminds us
that for every knuckle-head in the world, there are at least ten good people
who shine on quietly in the darkness.
The world is black and white but people are gray.
Everyone is always fighting internal struggles against loneliness and
self-depreciation. When we forget to fight these wars and try to bury them in
meaningless things, life gets hard. However, when we face them and do tiny
little good deeds. Not necessarily for anyone, not necessarily for ourselves,
but when we do small good things, those small quiet good things tend to pile up
into a good life.
I admire the Hobbits of Hobbiton in J.R.R. Tolkien’s
fictional works. They take such pleasure and pride in simple actions and simple
instances in their lives; green things, food, friends, pipe, and beer. They cherish
the good and their culture naturally shunned the bad to the point where it
almost didn’t seem to exist at all. They still had nosy neighbors and storms
and the occasional problems. But there was peace, and quiet, and goodness in
their lives that was focused upon and celebrated. If the world were more like Hobbiton
and focused less on problems and differences and blame and more on
neighborliness and responsibility and kindness and respect wouldn’t the world
be grand?
“Christina?”
“Hm?”
“Deep thoughts,”
“Relatively so,
“Care to share?” My sister leaned on the door frame
with a smile on her face.
“I could try, but I don’t know if I can get the
whole thought out before the next thought starts.”
“You’re brain is unique.”
“In a philosophical kind of way, yeah.”
She laughed and closed the door.
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