Most of the time I go about my day thinking only of all the things I have left to do. Today is different. Today I woke up and found I had time to do all the little things I know I like to do but never feel I have the time for. After taking my turn at a word game I started with a friend via email, I had my morning coffee while finally reading the next chapter of Eat, Pray, Love.
The book being what it is, set me to thinking. I should be grateful. How many luxuries do I enjoy today and every day that most people in the world don’t? I can think of two right off the bat…three meals a day and a loving family.
I am a picky eater. People getting to know me will often laugh at the fact that I don’t like cheese but order extra cheese pizza and love mozzarella sticks. I didn’t try strawberries until about three years ago because to this day I don’t like the look of all those seeds. I also eat chicken breast because chicken bones kinda gross me out.
Well today, as I sit here eating left over extra cheese pizza, I am making a concerted effort to be thankful for the luxury of being picky. I realize that many people around the world are lucky to have even one meal per day, and most cannot choose what they will eat. I may not be able to solve world hunger, but I think that maybe, if I take the time to think of these people and thank God and the universe for my good fortune, some positive energy will reach those less fortunate than me. Energy, after all, is why we eat food. Maybe, if I’m thankful and mindful, I can share my positive energy with others.
Mine’s not perfect. I’ve yet to meet one that is. But I know mine is special.
My family is close, almost to the point of dysfunctionality. They all laugh when I get annoyed that it takes six people to go purchase a slab of wood to work on one family member’s gate. When a friend recently asked if we ever fight I clicked my tongue and answered: “are you kidding?! Of course we do!” But when she inquired further into what we fight about, I was forced to tell the truth: “we fight about little things, like ‘why did you do that to your sister?’ and ‘why don’t you ever want to eat where everyone else does?'”
The point is…functional or not, my family is hospitable. If you’re a friend of one you’re a friend of all. My family is passionate. If you have a point, big or small, you better make it over the points of others and get better at listening while you speak, lest you miss a change in the topic of conversation. My family is mine. And that is rare.
Tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, I’ll try hard to think, for at least a moment, of all those in the world who won’t have a meal to share with family. Knowing that if they at least have family, there will be love to share.Share