I recently visited my old high school.
It was fun, and I got to talk to some of the children there.
One of them asked me, “When did you graduate?”
“2013,” I said.
He stared at me, mouth agape. His friends, who stood around him, began snickering.
“Why?” I asked, studying his expression.
It took a while, longer than I would like to admit, but slowly, wonder turned into suspicion, and suspicion solidified into an idea, which in turn blossomed into a belief.
“When were you born?” I asked the boy, who stood almost as tall as me.
“2013,” he said.
I laughed.
Time has a funny way of flying by.
It has been more than 10 years since I left high school. Doesn’t feel like it. I can still vividly remember walking on the school grounds and laughing with friends. Writing exams. Arguing about this movie, or that series, or that football team.
Nostalgia.
Am I slipping? Am I saying those were the good old days? Not at all.
But I found myself reminiscing after speaking to the boy.
And then that age-old enemy tried to worm his way in: Worry.
“12 years,” I thought. “What have I done? What have I learned? Who have I become? Have I regressed? What is the point?”
A flurry of thoughts that might be uncomfortably familiar to some of you.
I’m here to say I found an antidote to that chaos: counting. Give me a second, let me explain.
“Count your blessings, name them one by one…”
I began counting.
One.
Wisdom. A lot of the children at the school asked me a number of questions pertaining to school, career, and life in general. I answered each excellently, surprising even myself. These weren’t prepared answers, but they flowed off the tongue excellently. I helped a young person figure out study techniques. I helped guide someone in clarifying their thoughts regarding university applications. I even helped smooth out a high school drama (I forgot about those).
All these things, I could not have done 12 years ago. So yes, I had grown.
Two.
I interacted with some other alumni at the meeting. And at one point, had what I can only term a counselling session with a new friend. I helped the person recontextualize their situation and think through their problems. Then I offered myself as someone they could follow up with if they continued to have any challenges. After that, I probed their spirituality and ushered them towards getting back to church.
I 100% would not have been able to do that 12 years ago.
I have grown.
Three.
When I got back to my humble hill town, I was asked to help out with a potentially life-saving procedure for two patients. I completed both procedures in less than an hour with minimal fuss. It might sound small, but to me, it’s a big deal. Never mind 12 years, I wouldn’t have been able to do that two years ago.
What am I saying?
There are many antidotes to chaos. I hope to cover more. But today, I present you with one: remembrance, i.e., counting your blessings.
Whenever you feel thoughts rushing you, pause, remember, and count your blessings. If you are having difficulty with it, enlist a friend or a loved one. Let them count it out for you. They often remember more than you do.
Today, don’t let worry win. Remember to remember, and count your blessings.
0 Comments