Live Like You’re Happy To Be Here!

The people who park around me at the gym are some of the happiest and most grateful people I’ve met, and I look forward to the almost daily positive and pleasant interactions I have with them. I just wished that they lived longer.

I’ve been a member at the same gym for nearly 17 years, and have seen it happen many times over those years. It happened again a few weeks ago. Bob was a regular at the gym, and I often saw him at mass too. When I hadn’t seen him for a few weeks, I didn’t think much of it. It’s not uncommon for people, especially older people, to sit out for a while with a medical challenge. That wasn’t the case with Bob, as I learned of his passing in the local newspaper.

Death isn’t something that we discuss where I park. No one dwells on it, though we’re likely closer to it than most. Instead, we typically talk about what a beautiful day it is, regardless of the weather. Sometimes, we talk about our families and the things that we appreciate. We almost always talk about how happy we are to be there.

As indicated by the blue tags we hang from our rearview mirrors when we park, none of the people who park around me enjoy optimal health. While most are decades older than me, all of us have conditions that make trips to the gym challenging. What’s more, almost all of us remember what it was like to park elsewhere and nonchalantly walk into our destination. Though we know that those days are over, we don’t waste energy worrying about what we don’t have. Instead, we focus on our blessings.

When able-bodied people see us limp, shuffle or roll into the gym, they often expect us to be gloomy downers, but that’s not the case. The grumpy people part elsewhere. We’re happy to be right where we are, despite the challenges we face, because we’ve considered the alternatives.

I sometimes feel sorry for able-bodied people, because many of them haven’t considered the alternatives. When you are aware of those alternatives, blessings come into focus.

Several years ago, when he was still alive, I took my grandfather to Hooters. Always an engaging guy, he was quick to strike up a conversation with our server. During that conversation, he asked her if she enjoyed her job. Shrugging, she said, “I guess so.” With a response that I had to explain to her afterward in an aside, he said, “You’re probably just happy to have a job.”

My grandfather had lived through the Great Depression. During those lean years, when the farm couldn’t support a family and there was little local work to be had, he left home with his brother to stow away on a train to find work in the sugar beet fields of Western Nebraska. My grandfather was 14, and his brother was 16. He not only considered the alternatives, he lived them, and they taught him what it was like to struggle to make a living. Because of that, he considered any job a blessing.

When you face adversity like that, blessings shine brighter. That’s what helps the people who park around me stay positive and grateful. We know that things could be better, but life has taught us that they could also be much worse, and that’s why we focus on the positive.

If you’re fortunate, someday you’ll park where I do. You’ll probably be much older, and you’ll definitely be much wiser, but don’t wait until then to become positive and grateful. Start living like you’re happy to be here.