“Hindsight: Plaguing Unintended Incest-Perpetrators Since Luke Met Leia”
Today’s Words of Wisdom:
“Hindsight is always 20/20.”
~Billy Wilder, screenwriter
The Foda’s Take: Well, sure. We all have things in our life we’d like to change if we could. If we could map out the pivotal moment IT entered our lives, there would be no such thing as regret. But that’s not quite possible. After all, if we all knew the future, Luke would have never kissed his twin sister. So don’t feel bad you didn’t see your #fail coming- he’s a Jedi with powers of premonition and he still fell in love with his fellow womb-buddy.
Hi everyone! How goes it with you on this fine, fine day? Did you attempt my Five Days in Five Ways Smile Builder challenge? I hope you did!
I’ve been very nostalgic this past week, and thinking a lot about the past. It’s amazing how fresh some memories are. I was lying in bed a few nights back and remembered something particularly embarrassing that happened in high school, and actually covered my head with the blanket. Like that could shield me from it. I know. I may have rolled my eyes at myself on that one. And embarrassing memories are like dominos- once you remember one, your mind starts to seek out all the other times you felt like crawling under the covers and hiding from the world. Which is not conducive to sleep, FYI. (And no, I’m not going to share my humiliating tale. Nosey.)
So I decided to break the cycle and think happy thoughts, all Peter Pan-esque. Like the wedding I had three years ago when I danced every dance with my husband. I will always be so grateful for that day. I had been sick in the months leading up to it, but got better for the event. I became symptomatic over the honeymoon, but still- I got to have my perfect day, and I still got to climb mountains and chase waterfalls in Hawaii.
I thought of my silver cat, Yoda, who follows us everywhere and looks like a rabbit when he rolls on his back from the fluffy tufts of white hair on his belly. I thought of the day I finished writing my first draft for my novel. Or the day my father and I timed the sword-fight scene in the old movie “Scaramouche” to see how long it was. I’m pretty sure it was around seven minutes long- for all of my actor friends, can you imagine how long it took to block that out??!!! Or the times my mother and I would sit in front of the piano and just sing. The time my sister sent me a picture of her just days before she went into labor, sending a hilarious message to her husband to pick up his dirty clothes…. by putting them all on over her pregnant belly and swaggering around the house before snapping a selfie. (Although this was before selfies. So it was way cooler.) And finally, the time I crossed the finish line for the Hartford half-marathon with my fists punching the air because I had ran the whole way, never stopping once. And invariably, I thought of how much I missed being able to live the active life I used to have before chronic Lyme. Enter hindsight.
We can learn a lot by looking back. But when our present is challenging, it becomes so easy to get overwhelmed by how much better our lives used to be, and spend more time mourning its loss than nourishing the present. And I get it- some days, you just have to allow yourself to be sad. At times, fighting it will be more exhausting than just recognizing you need some time to feel what you feel, and then move on when you’re ready. Unless, of course, the mentality of “I’ll only be happy when ____” begins to take over.
So here’s my remedy. Happiness is not a destination. It’s not when I get better or when I snag that swanky job or that new car. Happiness is more subtle than that. And I’m going to be completely honest with you- it sometimes feels like no matter how many good things happen to me, it will never mean as much if I still can’t walk out my front door and just go. Which means I need to focus on appreciating the small things, and the things I have now.
So give me a moment here while I strap on my tool belt and start whistling. “Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s back to the small things we go…”