A Year of Quitting

I spent last year being a quitter. That's right, a big fat quitter. Quitting is not something I do lightly. Tenacity has always been a quality I've admired in myself. But there's a difference between tenacity and stubbornness. My year of quitting started with the end of my engagement. It was an unhappy relationship but I hung onto it for dear life. Woah. Read that again...an unhappy, UNhappy relationship but I hung onto it for dear life. What the hell??? I knew I was unhappy, I knew he was unhappy but I hung on?? Why? 

It would take a team of therapists to figure that one out...

When I finally chose to end things it was what I imagine skydiving to be like. That's a big decision. Stay safely inside the plane, no matter how turbulent or leap? I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and jumped. The moment I let that relationship go I knew it was the right decision. A weight had been lifted. I felt so light. And free. 

So seriously...what took me so long? I did some soul searching. Maybe my oh so admirable tenacity wasn't serving me the way I thought. Yes it got me through college. Yes it helped me raise four children as a single Mom. But was my unwillingness to give up on anything truly tenacity or was it pigheaded pride? Or could it be fear?

I didn't have to search long for the answer. 

Shit. 

I took a long hard look at my life and started quitting. I quit smoking. (I realize that should be a no brainer but it's an addiction people.) I quit eating meat. I quit waiting for the right time to sign up for yoga teacher training and just did it. I stripped myself of all the bullshit and only pursued things that made me happy. Things that fulfilled me. I was on a mission, I was taking back Poland! 

Taking myself back. 

And what did my year of quitting bring me? It brought me the knowledge that I have to take care of myself. My body, my heart, my spirit. It brought me a yoga teacher certificate, something I've wanted for over a decade. It brought me a new job. A job I absolutely love and that I'm meant to do. It brought me greater health and it brought me peace. It brought me an appreciation for myself. A commitment to never settle for anything. Looking back, learning to become a quitter was exactly what I needed. 

The Beauty of Friends

As a pediatric physical therapist I see a broad spectrum of abilities. Autism, Cerebral Palsy, Spina Bifida...the list goes on. Some of my kiddos walk independently, some can't and may never walk. Varying levels of abilities. These little guys very rarely reduce me to tears. That does not make me a big fat meanie. It's not my job to feel badly for them. It's my job to help them develop their strengths and function their absolute best and that's what I do. With a smile on my face and arms that are always willing to give a hug or a hand up. But today...today was a reach for the kleenex kind of day. And not because of why you might think. Today I got to witness a very genuine, very sweet moment between two friends. The two girls I was working with are five and seven and are both blind. The Orientation/Mobility specialist and I were doing a gross motor game with the two of them. The older child was being the "human guide" for the younger one. They were doing so great and were really excited. They started moving too fast and before we could get a hand in there to prevent it the younger girl ran into a chair. With her face...OW! (I assure you she was not injured, it was a bump that didn't leave a mark. I promise she was fine!) The little one started to cry. The O and M specialist was consoling her and making sure she was okay. I looked at the other girl and realized she was crying too. Harder than the one who'd been run into the chair! She felt awful for hurting her friend. The adults assured the small ones that everything was okay. No one was mortally wounded, all was well. Once most of the tears were dry the older child turned to the younger to apologize. They fell in to each other's arms and cried again. Kisses were given, "I'm so sorry I hurt you!" was said...it was so sweet and so very heartfelt. I admit the adults in the room, the mean hardened therapists, had to reach for tissues along with the girls. It was so beautiful. And not because these girls have disabilities but because it was such a real moment. If only adults could solve their problems so easily...

I love this quote. Think about it. Think about many times you're so busy looking for something better you fail to notice the wonderfulness right in front of you. Live in the moment. Embrace the moment. It may be that diamond necklace you've been searching for.