From Yuck to Magic: Transforming Life’s Challenges into Miracles
Transforming Yuck into Magic: A Journey of Discovery
The 3:30 am alarm came early. Kelly and I had a bit of a debate about what time to set it for – 3 am for me and 4 am for her. In the end, we compromised on 3:30 am. The Uber was scheduled for 4 am to take us to the airport, marking the beginning of our long-awaited honeymoon journey to Phoenix.
At 3:45 am, there was no more room for stalling; it was time to go. I swung my feet onto the cool floor, feeling every tight muscle protest from the early hour. Those first few steps each morning were always a challenge. Was this the new normal, I wondered? I worked out the kinks and creaked my way downstairs to make our morning green juice. Even with a 4 am departure, I couldn’t skip my daily greens. It had become more than a habit; it was verging on addiction. I cherished starting my day this way.
The green juice worked its magic, awakening us both. We were ready for the Uber when it pulled up at 3:50 am. Look at us, all punctual and responsible! The ride to the airport went smoothly, though you’d be surprised how busy it can get even at this early hour. Nashville Airport had been getting busier and busier, and today was no exception. The lines at check-in were daunting.
The curbside baggage check for American Airlines had a queue of at least 30 people. Inside, it was twice as long. Deep breaths, I told myself. Maybe coming this early wasn’t such a bad idea. I wheeled our bags toward the line, and Kelly, with her incredible certainty, led me to the premier line. “Love, we don’t have premier status on American, only United,” I mentioned. “No, we’re good,” she confidently replied. She owned it, so I didn’t argue. However, I knew we didn’t have priority status. I went along, resisting the urge to prepare for all scenarios, a lifelong habit I was trying to break.
I glanced at our roller bag, lifted it, and realized it was likely over the 50-pound limit. “Maybe we should move some of the heavy stuff to the other bag,” I suggested. “Yeah… that’s probably a good idea, but let’s just wait,” Kelly replied. This was a test of my newfound ability to go with the flow. I took a few deep breaths. What was the worst that could happen? The people in line behind us might see my lady boxers and our giant tube of Good Clean Love lube. So be it. Surprisingly, I was calm. I was trusting Kelly, and it felt good. I was okay; I was calm; I was going on my honeymoon. What a wonderful woman she was.
Our turn at the counter arrived, and the agent checked us in without redirecting us to the regular line. She was incredibly kind. I placed our giant bag on the scale and waited for the weight to display… 52 pounds. “I knew it,” I thought, over the limit. She simply attached a heavy tag and placed it on the conveyor belt. What a pleasant surprise; American Airlines operated differently. This wouldn’t fly with United. I was thrilled. We dropped our bags and headed for security. “Darn, I was hoping she would give us paper tickets,” Kelly remarked, surprising me. I was usually the one insisting on paper tickets; I didn’t want my phone to die or malfunction at the wrong moment. I wanted to be prepared. Kelly trusted her phone to come through in a pinch, and it always did. “How considerate,” I thought. She was thinking of me. “I wanted you to see our tickets,” she explained. I looked at her, “2 A and B,” she smiled. “What? They don’t have first class on American? That’s strange,” I teased. She just smiled back, “No, they have first class.” Wait. What?! “Are we in first class?” I exclaimed. “Yep!” she confirmed. “No way!!” I hugged her. “This is amazing,” I cooed. I love this woman.
So, that explained the premium line and the lack of concern about the heavy bag. I guessed those were first-class privileges. Things were different up front. Suddenly, I wasn’t dreading the flight anymore. I wasn’t mentally preparing myself to squeeze into a tiny seat and struggle to fit my backpack under the seat. Lately, I’d been battling panic attacks on flights. The emotions would rise as I braced myself for the discomfort of flying. Flying had become a dreadful experience. Yet, I tolerated it because I loved reaching my destinations quickly. Now, everything was different, and I was looking forward to the flight.
We located our seats, 2 A and B, and there was more than enough space for our bags, even without using the overhead bin reserved for us. Our bags easily fit under the seat, and there was still room for our feet and legs. This was amazing. The seat was comfortable, and I had a place for my book and journal. No longer did I have to struggle to hold my book, journal, and pen while trying to get my AirPods out of my backpack. Everything was neatly organized. This was incredible.
The flight turned out to be relaxing. I read my book, enjoyed actual glasses of sparkling water, and had some snacks, all without extra charges. I luxuriated in my spacious seat. If I needed to use the restroom, I could do so without climbing over Kelly. This was the life. As I settled back down and prepared for landing, I realized something surprising. I didn’t want the flight to end. This was a new sensation. In the past, I couldn’t wait to get off the plane, constantly checking my watch to see how many more minutes of torture were left. Now, I was reluctant to leave.
It was then that I realized something profound. I could turn yuck into magic. This newfound awareness was fascinating. Where else in my life could I apply this transformation? I thought back to our wedding day. A friend had ordered us a world-famous coconut wedding cake from New York, a delicacy renowned for its excellence. The expectations were sky-high. Yet, it never arrived. Someone at the post office must have enjoyed a phenomenal cake. It didn’t make it in time, and we never received the package. So, on our wedding day, we ended up going to the local supermarket and buying a white cake with blue and hot pink frosting. Seriously? I thought. This was our wedding cake. We purchased it and handed it to the chef we hired at our Airbnb, asking if he could work his magic. “No problem,” he said. What were they talking about? I had no idea. The next time I saw the cake, it was beautiful. It had been adorned with toasted coconut and featured a flower Lego topper. It was beyond perfect, and it tasted even better. We called it our transformation cake. Once again, the yuck part of our wedding day had become one of the most magical aspects.
Where else could I do this in my life? Where else was I experiencing yuck? One place immediately came to mind: yoga. I had resisted yoga for so long, finding it boring and tedious. I always felt like I was counting down the minutes until it was over. I knew it was supposed to be good for me, but it never excited me. On the first morning of our honeymoon, we signed up for a “Lighting Your Inner Fire” yoga session. “Great,” I thought, expecting it to be a painful experience. However, it turned out to be an outdoor session on a beautiful lawn in the Arizona desert. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Then, I remembered my newfound yuck awareness. How could I transform this experience?
I decided to fully commit to the practice. I removed my watch and decided to focus solely on being on the mat. I repeated to myself, “This practice is a gift to you. There is no other place you need to be, nothing else to do.” I felt myself relax and began to enjoy the movements. For the first time, I became aware of my breath and the sensation of breathing deeply into my heart. I noticed the smell of the grass, the touch of the mat, the sound of the birds. I swayed my hips and got into the flow. Just when I thought the class was about halfway over, we were in the final resting pose. What? It was over? Just like that, the 75-minute yoga class had concluded, and I felt disappointed.
This was magical. Where else could I apply this in my life? Suddenly, I felt like an alchemist. I began to look for yuck in my life with anticipation, ready to transform it into magic. This shift was just the beginning of experiencing life as something far more magical than yuck.
