Epiphany

Most people have an accurate understanding of both the event of Epiphany--the visitation of the infant Jesus by the three wise men--which is celebrated on the 6th of January, and the word “epiphany” which means “a sudden flash of insight.”  Many attest to having personal “epiphanies” as well.

It would be convenient and perhaps coincidental to say that today I had an epiphany of my very own, but such is not the case--though it is relatively early in the day and it could still happen, I guess.

When I began the new year of 2014 I was in the beginning stages of one of the nastiest colds I have had in awhile.  I felt it coming on the Saturday after Christmas, which was preceded by two days of never getting out of my pajamas kind of depression.  My girls tried to cheer me up with a Nike hoodie, a Joann gift card, and a bawdy little card that suggested an alternative to making lemonade when one is given lemons.  (They know me so well.)

So, despite my best intentions, I did not rise on New Year’s morning, ready to hit the gym and “eat healthy.”  I could barely breathe and couldn’t taste a thing.  I spent the next several days in much the same state, mostly perusing Facebook and WebMD to confirm that I indeed had a cold and not the flu.  To my family’s offering of some of my favorite foods, I would only growl, “I can’t taste it!”  Thus, I lost 3 pounds, and while I would not recommend illness as a way to lose weight, when life gives you lemons....

I only made one resolution this year, and that was merely done with a click of a Facebook share of 10 ways for writers to keep writing.  I impulsively and flippantly stated I was going to write every day and got a few "thumbs up” responses.  I immediately had regrets, for writing--though I love to do it--can often be onerous and burdensome, much harder to keep up than daily flossing I guess.  But I digress.

On this magnificent day (or should I say “magificent” day?) I did keep one promise I made to myself while in the throes of uncontrollable coughing and kleenex grabbing--to walk for 30 minutes on my treadmill.  I felt well enough to do it yesterday, I suppose, but Epiphany fell on a Monday this year, and Monday has always seemed to be my “restart” day--whatever it was I was restarting--my efforts to lose weight, get healthy, write, keep my house clean, pray, meditate, stop complaining, etc., etc.   The past several months  have felt more like eternal Sundays, you know, those kind of lazy days where I don’t feel like doing much, where the constant tug of being a “better" person is resisted. Sunday reminds me that I am loved just the way I am, imperfect, overweight, less than healthy, impulsive, cranky at times, unreasonable and whiney at others...human.  On Monday it is harder to believe that, the world presses in with its demands, and with the insistent whisper of inadequacy and the admonition to do something about all that.  I have resisted it for months, perhaps defiant of even my own desire to act, perhaps lacking will enough to counter a sort of low-grade depression, that like a low grade fever is slightly debilitating, but hardly life-threatenng.  It is not the storm clouds that brings torrential rain, but the low hanging ones that simply block the sun, for what seem like endless days.

So what was the “epiphany”--the sudden flash of insight?  Well, there wasn’t exactly one, just this:  While on the treadmill I realized how much I missed the treadmill, how good it feels to sweat, how amazing is the taste of cool water and how grateful I am for legs and arms that work, and mostly for ears to listen to music that blunts the tediousness of walking and getting nowhere.  No, there was no blinding realization but a remembering of what I have always known and had forgotten when the fog of depression obscured both my memory and my hope.  For me,  this Epiphany is simply seeing the sunlight when the clouds have cleared once again.