Hello friends.
It’s been 211 days since publishing my last blog post. I’m 30 years old now, as of July 11th. THIRTY!
Everything in my life is a-OK overall. I played in two softball games for 3 hours last Friday night and put my lungs to the test as I sprinted to first base for a ground ball hit and then flew around second base and made it to third on a teammate’s single. I hadn’t sprinted like that, full of adrenaline, in years. It felt oh-so-good to have a burning sensation in my lungs and to really open them up. Speaking of opening up, this blog post is going to be raw and vulnerable and somewhat stream-of-consciousness. Blogging is cathartic for me and I have some observations that have been marinating in my head that need to get out worse than President Biden needs to get out of office.
My life right now, all things considered, is great. I am relatively healthy, I see my siblings (who love me very much) on a daily basis, I have two amazing, rock-solid parents, I have friends that pray for me often, I really like the work that I do, I am eating a very healthy, low-carbohydrate diet, I am lifting weights 4-5 times per week, and I went to confession recently so my conscience feels healthy, too. Things, in general, are moving in the right direction. I try my best to remain grateful. Try is the key word there.
I’ve been battling lately with resentment. My dad has told me many times that his dad used to say to him, “Tommy, don’t judge a man until you have walked a mile in his moccasins.” Easy to say, extremely hard to do. I know my dad took it to heart, because he is one of the most understanding, non-judgmental people that I know.
With our highlight-filled social media feeds, in which most of the content that people put out there is a façade and not at all reflective of their inner lives, it’s easy to be filled with jealousy. I find that when I am quick to judge others, in person or on social media, my cynical and bitter side wins the day on some days, or weeks. I look around and start assuming things about people, as if their life stories aren’t just as complex and beautifully messy as mine.
Did the typical red-blooded American 30 year old have to have, through no fault of his own, a bilateral lung transplant when he was 22? No. Is the typical 30 year old taking 17 different prescribed medications every day and dependent on them for staying alive? Does he constantly deal with symptoms of cystic fibrosis, diabetes, gastroparesis, and immuno-suppression? Is he in constant fear of rejecting a part of his body? My cynical side thinks hell no, of course not, that is not normal; it is extra-ordinary. In order to maintain a healthy dose of self-respect, my competitive side comes out, the side of me that carries that biiiig chip on my shoulder, and I start to belittle other people’s problems. I am living life on HARD mode while these chumps are living it on EASY, I think to myself. Everything is harder for me. Everything from dating to gaining muscle to earning a living. I fight with myself a lot over this dastardly sin of envy, as we all do, and get frustrated when people take all of the amazing goods in their lives for granted. Health, financial stability, a partner. Great parents, a nice car, an incredible education in their formative years. Hell, even just living in one of the greatest first-world countries in the world, the USA. Good things that make life “easy.”
In my opinion, gratitude is in short supply these days. It requires us to slow down and smell the roses, but our lives are too fast-paced for that. Social media has us always wanting more, more, more, and I think it has turned us into a shallow and narcissistic society, and I include myself in that. We don’t truly appreciate things while we have them. (I am reminded of the very last scene in Season 1 of The Sopranos when Tony raises a toast and says, “I’d like to propose a toast. To my family. Someday soon, you’re going to have families of your own. And if you’re lucky, you’ll remember the little moments, like this. That were good. Cheers.”)
COMPARISON IS THE THIEF OF JOY it says, above the dumbbells, in big bold letters, at the gym that I go to.
Truer words have never been written. It’s one thing however, to memorize a platitude, and quite another to put it into action. In the new movie Father Stu with Mark Wahlberg, Stuart (Father Stu) is told at one point, “Life is going to give you a gutful of reasons to be angry kid, you only need one to be grateful.” Gratitude is the single candle that shines in the darkness and that will never be overcome by it. It is truly a superpower. I might even get that tattooed on my body. Gratitude is a superpower. Success is relative, and compared to others who have cystic fibrosis and are in dire need of a transplant, my path to this point in my life from that one has been relatively smooth. Successful. Triumphant, even.
God writes straight with crooked lines, as the saying goes. He is weaving a beautiful tapestry out of our lives, and who are we to question his handiwork.
striving to inspire 