I'm sitting on the side of the road. My car has no sign of life in it. And I am filled with gratitude. Seriously.
I've just dropped my daughter off at karate
and am heading back home where I'm supposed to be teaching a yoga class in 15
minutes when the car sputters and dies. And
the feeling that surges up in me is gratitude. A few years ago it would have
been rage, or helplessness.
I am grateful that this has happened after I've dropped my daughter off
rather than before (who wants to deal with the wrath of a 15 year old girl bitter
at missing a class?). I'm grateful that
I am able to slide into the right lane before the car comes to a full
stop. I'm grateful that I grabbed my
wallet as I raced out the door - behind schedule - and it has my CAA card in
it. I'm grateful that I have a CAA
membership.
I'm grateful that I also thought to bring
my cell phone. I don't always. And
that it's -mostly- charged (certainly
not a given). And that my cell phone
works (my phone and I have a tenuous relationship). And that I have the cell numbers of each of
the students who are supposed to be coming to class tonight. And that they are such great people, offering
to help rather than freaking because they are missing their yoga.
I'm grateful, while I wait in dark car on a winter's evening, that
it's only -6 degrees out and not -15 like it has been the last few days. Still, I'm grateful that I pulled on my
warmest coat over my knee-length yoga tights and tank top, rather than a little
jacket that would have been "more than adequate" for a quick car
trip. And that the CAA truck is going to be there in less than an hour. And, I'm grateful that my battery holds up
long enough on this busy stretch of road to keep my hazard lights flashing,
even if it's not enough to turn the car over after the tow-truck driver puts
gas in my tank.
Yes, this is all my own doing. I ran out of gas. I'm grateful that my car stopped, and I had
to miss my class, because of my own stupidity rather than anything
serious. The car has been "on it's last
legs" for a few years now. The check-engine light is always on, so while
running out of gas was entirely preventable, I'm grateful that's all that's
wrong. That, and my now-dead - but boost-able - battery.
The gratitude peaks when the car
finally turns over and confirms that it really is just a lack of fuel, and
spark that's allowed me this time to count my blessings.
Perhaps really, I didn't miss yoga class at all.
