Well, here goes. I hope I survive!   

That’s the thought that has flashed through my brain more than a few mornings since that fateful day back in December.

That day, like every day for nearly 10 years, I opened the small plastic bottles and took out a multivitamin, a calcium pill, and my teeny-tiny Vitamin D gel pill. I popped the gel pill in my mouth, took a drink of water, and swallowed. I did the same with the calcium pill. I repeated the process one more time with the multivitamin.

That’s when it happened. The white pill filled with nutrients lodged in my throat.

I tried to swallow. The pill refused to budge. I grabbed my Yeti tumbler and started drinking water,

hoping the pill would just go with the flow, so to speak. No such luck.

I began to cough and choke and gag.

Finally, the pill shifted and went on its merry way.

And I laughed till I cried at the irony of it. Just think — a measure I was taking to stay healthy might have killed me!

The incident, funny as I found it after the scare was past, was a wake-up call.

You see, I thought I’d done a fairly decent job of creating a new life in the wake of my husband’s death nearly 10 years before. I’d found a new job (and then another one 8 years later), moved a couple of times, bought cars and appliances and furniture. I’d had one home built and remodeled two more. I’d encountered some big challenges head-on and survived them.

I was, as a dear friend says, taking care of business pretty darned well, thank you very much.

But one small white multivitamin taught me that I needed to be more aware of the not-so-big things as well, or they might become big issues.

More importantly, I realized that life redesign isn’t the “once through and done” process I’d thought it was.

Instead, those of us who have experienced a major life change and redesigned our lives must remember that as time passes, circumstances around us change, we age, etc, further adaptations will no doubt be necessary.

We can worry and even obsess, wring our hands and gnash our teeth, and even cry in our beer.

Or we can be open to change and even welcome it, square our shoulders and lift our chins, and live  abundantly and joyfully.

I know the path I want to take. And I’d bet it’s the same most people would choose.

I’d love to hear your thoughts, learn from your experiences, and pray for you. Please leave a comment or send me an email. Join the conversation . . .