Count Chocula…

What can I count on? 2020 has taught me many things I can count on…and not count on. What can I count on?

I can count on my fingers

I can count on my toes

I can count on Count Chocula

I can count on the Count of Montecristo

I can count on the fact that I can count…in my head

I can count on the fact that I’m struggling to figure out what I can count on

And me saying that will hurt some people. I can count on that

I can count on the fact that people look at me as someone they can count on

I can count on the fact that they really shouldn’t

I can count on death, taxes and Otis Birdsong’s jump shot

I can count on God. But what exactly for I’m not 100% certain. Well, I am certain about a very few things. I can count on salvation. I can count on creation. I can count on his love

When it comes to spinach, green things on pizza, trusting politicians, listening to people brag about their cornhole skills, trusting those who say they want you to be vulnerable, espresso shots, whiskey or guacamole…you can count me OUT

When it comes to a quiet walk by a lake, being anonymously kind, a round of golf, a dip in a pool, a ride on my motorcycle, kraft macaroni and cheese, sea bass, listening to the ocean, designer jeans or my 9 iron…you can count me IN

And I’m fairly certain that those lists will offend or hurt some people. I can count on that.

The counting journey has a lot of twists and turns. When you are little the count me in list is much longer. It trusts and tries everything. When you are older you are more cautious and the count me out list is much longer. Why? Pain. Pain is a great teacher. Sometimes it teaches a lesson too strongly. When we touch the hot stove we could have just learned not to touch hot stoves but instead when we are little we take it to a whole new level and learn that our parents don’t care about us because what kind of parents would allow such a device in the house that could possibly be used in a way that would hurt so badly. And so it’s years of counseling and therapy.

Pain is a great teacher, but sometimes too strong of one. I bit down on a taco tonight and feels like a broke a tooth. I learned that something hard was in that taco and maybe, just maybe, I should never eat another taco again in my life. Or maybe, pain is just random and the fact that I’ve eaten hundreds of tacos without incident is enough to teach me that I can count on tacos not having hard stuff in them. “One bad taco don’t spoil the whole bunch girl!”

I always tried to understand others points of view. It frankly came pretty naturally to me. Out of necessity when growing up. It was how I made myself valuable to others. I was someone they could count on.

I wish I could have more things on the count me in list. Maybe that’s what this journey is about. Getting to the point of living in less physical pain or at the very least forgiving those who have caused other pain and learning to be at peace with the physical. And that helps me be….free. Free to count me in.

For now, I can count on the fact that I’m hurting others. At least that’s what I’m told. I didn’t know it. Wasn’t aware.

Back in April I was to go away to a place where I could get some focused therapy and spend time with pain specialists. It didn’t work out with covid. So I came back. I needed that time alone. I think it’s time for me to take it. I think the fact that I’ve got these issues is overwhelming folks. The reliable car is sputtering. I’ve been trying to fix the car while it’s driving down the road. And that’s not a car you can count on.

So, much like the card game at the table the other night…you can deal me in. Shoot, I typed ‘count me in’ and then realized it was ‘deal’ me in. That didn’t quite finish the way I saw it in my head. And it frankly doesn’t make a lot of sense.

Now THAT’S something you can count on lately