This week, I’m honored to introduce you to Adam Walker. Adam and his wife Kate are dear friends of mine. In addition to being a friend to many and husband to Kate, Adam is a dad; a son; a brother; a naturalist; a writer; artist; seeker and a very generous soul.
I invite you to respond to Adam’s post here.
Here’s what he has to say about gratitude…
I’ll be honest. I am approaching the age period when things such as mid life crises are known to occur. At the moment I am unemployed. I drive an old Buick. I don’t own a home. I have terrible teeth. I could go on.
Last week my brother called. He and our dad were in a really bad wreck; they came out of the ordeal unscathed. Just some cuts and scratches, bruises, and the overall soreness that results from learning the principles of Newtonian motion in real time. The whole scenario involved a partially heeded stop sign, a fast moving Suburban, and a stationary log truck on the other side of the intersection. It was not a pleasant picture. Amazingly, no one was seriously hurt. They are really lucky to have walked away from something like that.
Close calls will open eyes and minds sometimes. I am so grateful to have my father and brother still here with me. In an instant, in one slender moment of time, things can change. When it’s smooth sailing, it is easy to become complacent and forget; take it all for granted.
Gratitude is being appreciative of and happy with what you have right now. Forget all the things you want. Or had. Or need. Just think about what you have at this moment in your life. And consider how lucky we really are to just even be here at all. How amazing it is to just be.
I am happily married to a great and beautiful woman. We have a wonderful little boy. We have amazing families and true friends. We are alive and together in this little sliver of time and space in the universe. I am grateful to be here.
As I write this today, Chilean miners are emerging from half a mile underground after 69 days of darkness. Wow. I can only imagine how they feel, feeling the sunlight, seeing their families, emerging back into the world. Alive.
That old Buick I drive doesn’t seem so bad anymore.