I woke from a deep sleep with all the covers thrown off and heat coming off of me in waves. I looked up at the clock and just that simple act alone had Casey's tail beating out a greeting.
I got up, wandered into the kitchen for a cool drink of water and gave the pups a snackie. I opened the back door to find blessed relief. Not too cold out, maybe around 60 degrees. The dogs shot off the porch in search of whatever wild critters lurked in the bushes while I curled my toes over the edge of the porch. I stood looking up at the night time sky as I plucked my T-shirt off of my skin. A soft breeze sprang up, gosh that feels nice.
So quiet. So peaceful. "Everyone should have a moment like this." I think to myself.
A sudden flash of light catches my eye and I looked up to see the fading tail of a shooting star.
"Thank You." I whisper out loud.
I've always done that. Say "Thank You" out loud after seeing a shooting star as if God is sending shooting stars just for me alone. A silent message from the heavens telling me that everything is OK.
I always feel special after witnessing one. And for some reason, I think I'll remember this moment for awhile.
After a day at work, filled with names and faces flashing by...each person given my undivided attention for a time, and yet for some reason I can't really bring any of them to mind right now.
But this moment, with the soft breeze and the shooting star, this I'll remember for awhile.
Why is that? What makes one moment more special than another?
Twenty some odd years ago, I remember another moment. We were sitting around my parents dinner table, just us girls, after a holiday meal. I can't even remember what holiday it was. We were talking about this and that and my older sister said to me "You're so lucky!"
She said it like she was envious of me.
"Luck? Luck's got nothing to do with it." I said without thinking. "I made the right choices that's all. And I've worked hard for everything I've got."
It was one of those moments that in retrospect I wish I could've taken back. Filtered my words a bit better. What I said was true enough, but it came out sounding like I thought that she didn't make the right choices, like she didn't work hard. Her face fell. I think I tried to explain myself but she was already past hearing anything I had to say. I think it was easier for her to think of me as being lucky. That random luck gave me all the things I had.
That was one of those moments that I won't forget.
Why is that? Because she felt bad? Not really. I'm sure if I mentioned it to her now, she wouldn't recall it. But I remember it to this day.
I think it's because, without thinking, I said out loud one of my most basic philosophies.
Think it through and try to make the right choice.
I'm a thinker. I'm a doer too, but I try to think ahead and analyze things before I act. Most times. And because I make the right choices, my life must seem lucky to some. I'm happy. I'm happy in my marriage, my work life...I'm happy in my skin.
Does that make me lucky? I don't think so. Luck is for Vegas, for gambling. Luck is when something falls from the sky and lands in your lap that you didn't ask for.
I'm not a lucky person cause I don't live my life waiting for things to fall in my lap.
I'm a happy person because as I make my way through life, I try to make the right choices for me.
It's simple really. I ask to be happy.
And so I am.