Some mornings I wake up realizing that all night long I’ve worried about stuff in my dreams, hashing and re-hashing things over which I have no control.
Last night was one of those nights.
I woke up early this morning, my mind racing with everything to do. And I was stressed out before the day even began (this, on the heels of a day where Stijn said that I was finally looking relaxed and “myself” again…). My morning fears were confirmed as I realized that my extra leg battery had gone missing and that it hadn’t charged overnight.
Sometimes I feel so vulnerable, where the inability to charge my knee will mean a loss of mobility and heaps of frustration (and pain). I’m not sure what to do with that vulnerability except to recognize it for what it is and to check (once again) that my batteries are charged and at the ready. I can’t plan for everything that might go wrong, but somehow I will still keep trying to do so.
The wooden ceiling of an ancient Beguine chapel.
But of course there have been days that everything has gone wrong (I’m thinking of that trip to China a few years ago when my new bionic knee completely malfunctioned) or those random moments where I’ve completely lost my charge or just a few days ago when my foot fell off while I was walking home from the market and I had to zombie-drag myself two blocks while leaning on Stijn’s arm. So far, I’ve survived just fine. Every time.
So why do I still spend so much time worrying?
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I swear it’s in the genes!