Sweating the small stuff

You know what’s funny? I used to blow up and go crazy over the small stuff.

Now? I know what’s considered a big deal and what’s not.

Losing your brad new phone at the park? Small.

Rehabbing from missing your esophagus and a chunk of your lung? Kinda big.

The phone was returned by a very nice older woman and all I had on me was a Target giftcard and she tried to refuse it so many times, but I made her take it. A year ago, I would’ve flipped out because I lost my phone. Something that doesn’t hold any value to my life.

It’s weird to actually sit there and think about what you value and what you don’t.

In the hospital this year, my childhood stuffed animal was lost in an incident. Big. “Baby’s ear” as I called it, was my best friend. The only one who was in the room with me for every doctors appointment and procedure I’ve ever had and now this “object” is just gone. It took me a long time to process the fact that he was gone.

Things like a phone, don’t matter to me anymore. It’s the people around me that give me a sense of purpose and direction.

xo