Why me?

I’ve been thinking about this one for a long time now, and finally decided that today is the day to write it down.

I’ve seen it said, in various places, that people only ask “Why me?” when bad things happen.  I stand as living proof that that is not true*.  For at least three years now I have been asking/feeling “Why me?” precisely because I have been/am/am feeling so blessed.  How did I get so fortunate as to own, for a time, two homes?  To also own (outright, now, thanks to the sale of the first home) a Mercedes van?  (“Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz. . .”.  Well, it’s done bought now.)  To have the money, now, to pay for a heat pump and electrical work on the house, and to convert the van (soon) to a small RV?  To live in this practically perfect spot (the perfection of which is only enhanced for me by the fact that it needs a lot of work) in this beautiful bit of the world?  To look out over green and trees every day, backed by either a beautiful blue sky or a soft gray one, with fog tendrils amongst the treetops?

Part of what I see every day from my favorite settin’ spot on the deck.

Morning view from my upstairs bedroom window.

What I see while having my morning tea.

 

To have retired, in reasonably good health, to all this?  How did this happen?  To me?

I certainly don’t feel that I’ve done anything to deserve it, in any moral or spiritual sense.  Don’t get me wrong–I have a healthy sense of self-worth and don’t consider myself an awful person or feel any need to beat up on myself in any way.  And I know full well I worked for it, to say nothing of scheming and figuring out budgets and timing.  It’s just that the majority of people on this planet never have this much, and a lot of them have had to work a lot harder than I could even imagine.  Heck, the majority of people in the US don’t have this much (and yes, I know an awful lot of people have a lot more.  Still.)  Or live in a place or in a way that gives them so much pleasure and contentment.  So why me?

It certainly gives the lie to the idea that we get what we call to ourselves, or that we have to believe we will be blessed in order to be blessed, or however various spiritual gurus would put it.  In my younger days I thought it was likely that I would have a miserable old age, living homeless in the street somewhere.  So if imagining bad things happening will call them to you, then that’s where I should be right now.  Further,  I did not save,  was not financially astute; rather, I did what I wanted to and spent whatever I had (and sometimes a bit more–thanks, Mom) to do it.  Joined the Peace Corps.  Travelled, often on a shoestring.  Acquired several dogs and a few cats (and it’s expensive to keep pets.)  About 20 years ago I did get a bit more sensible, but even a few years back I would have said it was nip and tuck as to whether I’d have a comfortable retirement, let alone one as blessed as this one is so far and promises to be for years to come (good lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.)

So I am not taking any of this for granted, or as my due in any way; rather, so far, I find myself walking around half the time in a daze of gratitude.  The rest of the time I just feel regular, normal, and perhaps eventually that will prevail.  I hope never to take it for granted, but perhaps I’ll become more accustomed to it, to feel less need to ask “Why me?”  Until then–well, I think I’ll go kiss my deck now 🙂

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* Not that I’ve never said “Why me?” for bad stuff–I have, lots of times.  Just not recently.