Clarity

I think I've initiated a process towards clarity, for want of a better word to use. And one of the first steps in that process is developing a whole new set of expectations - and saying goodbye to the expectations that prevented me from seeing a lot of things for what they really are.  I think I'm starting to discover joy. I'm not sure I have it all down yet, but for now, I'm experiencing emotionally and spiritually facts I knew intellectually, that gratitude leads to humility which in turn leads to a different set of expectations. And the most memorable pleasures are the ones that are unexpected.

Madness

In this case, March Madness, a term used to describe the annual NCAA basketball tournament. My alma mater suffered a heartbreaking one point loss last night, ending a rather improbable run that started with four straight wins in the B1G tournament resulting in a B1G tournament championship, followed by two more wins in the NCAA tournament including a stunning tournament upset over #2 seeded Louisville.

The beginning of that run coincided with an incident involving my college basketball team in an aborted plane takeoff where the plane ended up leaving the runway, skidding across the airport, through a fence, and almost ending up in a ravine. The head coach gave the team the option of forfeiting the tournament, or trying to fly in the next morning. The team voted to travel and play, and the more they won, the more they began to attract the attention of the national media, who began to cover the story of how this near tragedy had had a galvanizing effect on the team.

This morning I saw a tweet from one of the players:

                                     STILL ALIVE

I just remember thinking two things:

How glad I am to be alive.

And how glad I am to go to Michigan.

And that got me thinking. Maybe my mentor was right in that I really hadn't come to grips with the fact that I almost died. It's a scary thing, but on the other side, there really hasn't been any gratitude. Not reminding myself everyday that it's great to still be alive might be the maddest thing of all.

Anniversary

A week ago, it was the fourth anniversary of my attack. I've been told it's a Russian custom to treat surviving such events like a birthday andin that vein, I went to dinner with some friends. The truth of the matter is that other things have not been going well so I wasn't really in a celebratory mood. But over the course of the meal, I was reminded that there was a reason why I'd survived such a thing. I'd lost sight of that.

Unfortunately, that revelation was tempered by the death of a friend that same weekend; one of my dance teachers, Wiley Simpson, who lost a battle with lung cancer. It seemed wrong to be celebrating breathing while a friend was having his privilege revoked. But it's time to get down to it. There's a reason I survived and I'm pretty sure I haven't accomplished everything I need to do.

Hopefully, this time next year, I can say I've made some serious progress; I've been on a plateau now for a while, and I need to move on.