Summit Wellness: Gratitude - "Don't Wish Your Life Away"
Wellness can be achieved by virtue of completing a journey and maintain a lifestyle. But it can also be magnified by our ability to appreciate and be thankful for the things that we already have! Summit Wellness continues to hum the melody of connection between feeling good and feeling grateful!
Gratitude is a monthly feature contributed by Matt Anthony, Digital Media Producer and on-air host for the Summit FM. Matt reflects on instances where we might uncover more ways to appreciate what’s in front of us, and how those instances might contribute to our overall health and well-being.
Ain't no use in gettin' uptight, just let it groove its own way
Let it drain your worries away
- “Rainy Day, Dream Away” – The Jimi Hendrix Experience
In the closets at home, we have long since run out of hooks. The sheer number of hoodies we own almost equals that of the compact discs on the shelves. We wear them in the morning, in the evening, while watching television, in the car, and, most importantly, tucked away perfectly underneath an even heavier coat.
Winter gets no love from me. I do not ski, and I don’t play ice hockey. As a kid, I never really owned a sled. And while augmented weather patterns have changed the dynamics of ‘winter’ over the years, here in northeast Ohio we are still confronted by the inescapable maxim: the sun on hiatus brings cold, dreary conditions to the months after Christmas.
These are the challenging times. Christmas lights are packed away again, in the basement or in closets. (next to the hoodies!) New Year’s resolutions are already being second-guessed. And as the bare tree-branches sway in the frigid wind, the thought of ‘buds’ emerging seems less realistic than a Hall and Oates reunion.
Hey sunshine what's she doing
Sunshine all around
But I'm standing here hazy-eyed
Why won't you tell me now
What is she trying to
What is she trying to
What is she trying to hide?
- “Gray Sunny Day” – The Cowsills
My mother was emphatic whenever I looked ahead to something that wasn’t in the present: “Don’t wish your life away.” Somewhere amongst the colorless, overcast wind-torn bone-jarring cold of January and February, buried deep in the permafrost of an Ohio winter, lie opportunities to prove her right, topped with a sprinkle of gratitude.
As I churn out these words, the wind has kicked up outside. The temperature is dropping, and the forecast is for the numbers to plummet even lower. But as I wrap my Browns hoodie around me (mentally preparing for…a ‘playoff game’?), I’m instantly reminded that we have something that others may not have tonight: heat. Yes, my penchant for keeping the monthly bill low sometimes forces me to vacate the basement lair in favor of the upper level. But draping oneself in a hoodie or two is preferable to seeking shelter in a doorway for the night. I’m reminded to be thankful.
Every silver lining's got a
Touch of grey
I will get by
I will get by
- “Touch Of Grey” – Grateful Dead
‘Hibernation’ is a state of mind. It doesn’t have to be reclusive, sullen, or unproductive. At least that’s what I tell myself. I take another healthy gulp of my coffee, an ‘India Cherry Robusto’ bean that I roasted in my chilly garage 3 days prior, grateful for my small ceramic heater and Donna’s 20-year-old Cleveland Indians parka.
It’s quiet. And it’s quiet outside. The newer refrigerator that replaced the ancient one hums methodically, like an old Charlie Watts groove. I’m thankful that it’s kept my cream cold, too, and the texture (much to the chagrin of the coffee purists) gives added girth to my roast.
A lone vehicle saunters slowly up the hill next to the house, its tires slicing through the two inches of snow on the ground. And as the sound dissipates into the distance, the silence is almost deafening. But it’s a welcome deafening. It’s the sort of ambiance that gets crushed by the sunny sounds of a leaf-blower or a hedge-trimmer.
The Holidays have evaporated. The dark still arrives earlier than it’s appreciated. And an arctic air mass can show no mercy. We’re seemingly on the dark side of the moon. But my mother’s edict reverberates like a Steve Jones power-chord. ‘Sunny-and-75’, while preferred, is easy. It’s a big beach-ball ready to be pounded on with little to no effort. Gratitude and thankfulness right now can seem like that spare part they don’t make anymore. It begs to be searched for and uncovered, perhaps from its own mysterious form of hibernation. I silently hope that it's worth it, and I think it is.
Wait….is…is that a train I hear?
It was a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
Beautiful day
- “Beautiful Day” – U2