I know a day will come when I am not surprised by the irony of my life. Likely, it will be years from now, and I will miss the irony due to senility rather than its actual absence, but I am sure the day will come. Until then, I will simply have to accept that I am blind to my own observations. I regularly comment on the paradox of life, but then get caught off guard when my own paradoxes spring to life at a moment's notice.
Today, I woke up and knew I was off. I could feel the slight swimming of my world even as I fed the cats and took my meds. Such days are never good, but at least my spirits weren't dampened by the dizziness. I got back into bed, ate my breakfast, did the sudoku, read the sports section, chatted with my wife and daughter, and even loved the cats. I also had at least four bowel movements, realized my intestines were horrid and continued to feel unbalanced. As my wife and daughter headed to work and school, I remained grateful that my mood was still decent, even while my day was clearly going down the drain. Perhaps, the ill feelings were a result of me channeling my frustration of four days of starting a DVD that I knew were ahead at my job this week.
I finally got moving and did my knee exercises. I got ready for school and had two or three more bouts with my bowels. My casual drive in got me to work with a half hour to spare. I had a couple of good conversations and tried to find a few friends. I eventually got to chatting with two wonderful teachers, and we shared our weekends. This awful day still had its redeeming moments, I thought. When the bell rang, I made my way to my classroom and got the DVD set up. Although I couldn't focus on any correcting, I did clear up some issues with three students. I also got some planning work done for my new course starting in the fall. I had another bowel moment and wrestled with a full bladder, but made it to lunch and still had a smile on my face. I began to wonder what kind of day it was - awful or great.
Lunch was good and meeting with my team for next year was even better. My final class again found me regretting the lack of student interaction, but also getting more work done. I dashed to my massage and entered the twilight zone. Some woman was yelling at the awesome staff at Langford Chiropractic. Turns out she was the first of a string of unique customers today. Still, I got my massage and experienced tremendous pain and relief all at the same time. My massage therapist is incredibly skilled, but my muscles are horribly tight - once again, awful AND great. Yet, when I got done, I was late picking up my daughter after band. I beat myself up in the car, but kept losing my train of thought. Sometimes, narcolepsy is a blessing! Naomi was waiting in a friend's car for the second time in 5 days (same friend too), thus I felt more shame. But, as I headed back to get my chiropractic adjustment, I again felt lighter. My chiropractor was excited to hear how well things are going with my knee.
The final moment of insanity happened at home. My wife was already home and thrilled to see both me and our daughter. Somehow, though, everything went south (and I was still having bowel issues). My daughter made a snide comment to me. I fired back a few moments later, and then my wife got upset. Normally, this scenario would make for world war three. Today, we all retreated and then forgave each other. Within 30 minutes we were all sitting together talking about life and evening plans.
The beauty of life's paradoxes is that a day like this, filled with shame and anger and illness and pain, can also be a good day. In fact, today was a great day. I am most stunned at this moment by the realization that I should have been a wreck today. Whether it was my bowels, or the embarrassment of getting my daughter late, or the pain in my muscles, I should have fallen apart. Instead, I have remained upbeat. I love that my rotten days can, at times, produce days like today. So many things went wrong, and yet I can only think of what has gone right. Perhaps my understanding of balance is not so far away.
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