She Who Mows

I did something today. Something I never believed I could.

I mowed.

I know it seems simple, but for me, it was a huge victory! You see, I have spent my life allergic to grass. And it’s not a minor allergy. Just walking through the grass barefoot for one single minute will begin the reaction of itchiness. This is followed by a skin reaction if I don’t go wash my feet off. It’s real. And it has hindered me from doing a lot in my life… Like rolling a down hill as a kid. I have always wanted to do that…

Needless to say, mowing was not something I ever thought I would do, much less could. However, circumstances be as they are, there is no one else to do it. And well, that means I either had to figure it out and do it myself, or I have to pay someone. Decisions, decisions.

Throughout this past year’s process of recovery, I have been given numerous decisions. Some have come easily. Others I have had to wrestle through for months. I have had to weigh the good verses the bad. Deciding whether or not the physical and mental symptoms of facing this head on is worth the challenge. Do I let this thing remain as it is, or do I choose to grow? And then, not only do you have to make the decision, you have to DO it. Because a decision without action leaves you exactly where you were.

Sometimes, you can only do what you can do. Maybe it works out. Maybe it doesn’t. But there is still always a choice. But if you aren’t at least trying something new, you aren’t growing. And my grass needed to be mowed, because it was.. growing. Could it cost me? Maybe. But I had to try.

So today I said a huge prayer of faith, donned my physical ‘armor’ (aka long pants, long sleeves and an N95 mask), and slayed the giant!

My grass looks great! And I am standing a little taller for doing it.