From Sore Muscles to Gratitude

As I was getting out of bed this morning it became readily apparent that my arm, hand, back and leg muscles were sore from painting a closet yesterday.  The chore took several hours from masking it off to the cleanup afterwards.  While I am not out of shape, I did do a lot of twisting and reaching while painting the hard to get to places in the closet.  Those movements left me sore this morning from using muscles in ways I don’t normally do.

So my first though was to go “darn it, sure wish my left elbow was now hurting from tendonitis this morning”!   Then of course all the other muscles in my body that were sore chimed in:  upper leg muscles said “what about me?” shoulder muscles said “don’t forget what I did”, back muscles said “I worked hard, pay attention to me” and so on.

I got my morning cup of coffee and decided to go check out my work in the closet in my library.  Once the lights were on and I could witness my work, it seemed like some of the soreness left.  There is something about being satisfied with work I accomplish that lessens the pain involved.  I was pleased at my work, and satisfied that the trade off of getting the work done versus being sore was a fair transaction.  The work will be enjoyed long after the after effects are gone.

Today I am grateful for the closet project being done, but even more so that I have the ability to do it.  Not just the steady hand and arm to paint with, but my legs to hold me up, my back to strengthen and keep me up straight, my eyes to see what I am doing and so on.  Physically I am not young but I am very blessed to be able to do most anything I want to. 

 This morning I remembered what a friend said yesterday regarding how challenged she is with the movement of her hands.  While she very healthy and whole, surgeries have left her with her hands unable to do tasks that require small and precise movements.   When I suggested yesterday she use a razor blade for a small project, she indicated she could not do that and would probably cut herself if she tried. 

So this morning when I reflect on my closet project completed, I remember the edging around the ceiling I did and the precise movements it took.  I realize it is a blessing that I can do such things.  The more I live, the more simple things I find to be grateful for.

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.  William Arthur Ward