I am sitting on the couch trying to drink a particularly bad Hungarian wine. My Hungarian neighbours gave it to us for Christmas and we finally unscrewed the top and helped ourselves. It tastes like a cross between sweet apple juice, tart grape juice, and pure alcohol. But it sure is pretty in the glass.
As I pondered the wine – well really, as I pondered why I was drinking this wine – I thought about throwing it out. And it occurred to me, as I grimaced with every gulp, that this was a gift. A gift from neighbours I don’t know well, giving a gift of pride of their country, given when nothing was required.
I shut down the negativity and remembered: this is a gift. A gift of good intentions and kindness. And I was sitting here in my own home, after spending the weekend cooking and buying Starbucks and getting free cookies, with the clothes washer pounding out a background backbeat, and I was overcome with a realization I am very blessed.
I bought a leather jacket yesterday for just $10 – I have access to affordable clothes.
I have clothes to wash, I have food to eat. I have so much food, I can cook for days. The TV is broadcasting the Bronze medal game of the Scotties curling tournament (how Canadian!). My phone works.
I have heat in my home and bad wine in my belly. My hard cover Patti Smith book sits across the room waiting patiently for me. I have a wife who loves me, and a steady job. I live in a community that respects my sexuality, and my political stripe.
International Women’s Day, 2016
I have choices and comforts not available to most people in this world, and I am grateful and humbled.