It’s Saturday morning, here on the coast of Maine. The sun is bright, peeking out around the clouds; it’s also much higher in the sky than in the winter. The air is cool, and a light breeze is ruffling the tree outside my window. I feel good — I am sleeping more soundly than I have in years.
I am full of gratitude for all the good in my life. I picked up my paintbrush last night for the first time in weeks, and I am currently working on making my water more realistic. This simple act awakened the creative side of my mind — not only painting, but writing, which I also haven’t done in weeks.
I decided last month that my apartment is far too cluttered — not just old magazines and mail, either. I own souvenirs from everywhere I’ve ever been, and I spread them onto every flat surface here. I own furniture I don’t use, and I know one cause of my underlying anxiety is the state of these rooms. So, my plan is to turn my apartment into something resembling a dojo. I dragged my busted rocker, and that now beat-up plastic palm tree down to the dumpster yesterday. After my nephew takes the big, old, beautiful dresser out of my bedroom, I will move my painting stuff into the bedroom, where the window on the north side will give me more ideal light.
I already moved my little pedal-er into the bedroom, where I see it immediately after I wake up. I jump to it each morning, and the exercise, along with a much more limited diet, (limited phosphorus and potassium, and very limited carbs,) I made a huge change in my A1c, (my three-month average blood glucose.) Three months ago, it measured 8.6. Not good. This Tuesday, my A1c was 7.2 — a huge improvement and right at the level my Nurse Practitioner wants. Who knew, all these decades, that the doctors were right about me needing to exercise? (She smirks, amazed at the level of her own stubbornness.)
Back to my dojo: I am ridding myself of my recliner. Even with two pillows behind my back, I never get really comfortable, and I wake with a backache every morning. I intend to get a club chair instead, and a love-seat or small sofa. The desk is going, as is the office chair, which also requires pillows. My friend D. bought it for me as a birthday present a couple of years ago, but I judged it by its looks, and not by comfort.
On Thursday, I called the cruise company to check D.’s and my balance owed, and the first person told me that she had no record of us — no reservation, and no sign of the $500 deposit we paid. I experienced a brief moment of panic, but then I hunted down our booking number and talked with the agent with whom we made our reservation. All is well, and we set sail on October 26 for Honduras, Belize, and two stops in Mexico. I intend to be well and ready for fun before that date.
I am grateful for my life, for my family and friends, for my readers, (I love you all,) my home, my health, and my newfound appreciation for staying healthy through exercise. I am very thankful for my mental health, and I understand more clearly how to keep up a sense of calm. I am a very, very lucky woman.