Am happy, relieved, and dare I say it, optimistic. It’s finally been confirmed, again, that I don’t have MS (whew) and that my symptoms might simply be indicative of a vitamin D deficiency (how that is possible in the sun-blasted city, I don’t know, but I’m open to suggestions!). Wouldn’t that be nice? Will know more in a month or so.
I had some interesting meetings, a few new projects are fermenting in the pipeline, and life generally is as good as ever. The inimitable GM is back in town so I’ve had a roommate and I’ve had occasion to cook. So lots to be grateful for.
As I thought about what to focus on this week, one thing leaped to mind: clean sheets. English poet Rupert Brooke describes ‘the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble’ and how right he is. There is nothing quite like getting into a freshly made bed with crisp cotton sheets that have been ironed and cooled. Were we not living in an environmentally challenged world, I’d have clean sheets on my bed every night. As it is, it’s the one thing I do if I’m not feeling well, am in a bad mood, or need to do some serious thinking: I change the sheets and then I crawl into my haven, the sanctuary that is my bed, and immediately feel better. I’m lucky – I have a bed and I have spare linen and I can go to bed whenever I want to.
Walking the streets of Budapest, I see so many homeless, wrapped up in dirty sleeping bags or in this weather, just sleeping in their clothes on a patch of grass or a bench. I see them huddled in doorways, in the subways, at bus stations. It’s been a long time since many of them have known the joy of a clean bed and I’m once again reminded of how fortunate I am to live the life I do. Yes, it’s the simplest things in life that often afford the most pleasure.
Note: For a reminder of what the Grateful series is about, check out Grateful 52