Real life interrupts. It is a phenomenon we all encounter. Sometimes it interrupts on a daily basis, sometimes much more infrequently. And there are times when life piles on like a gang tackle, on item after another stopping you from the things you want to do most. July began with big plans to address some long simmering thoughts and musings that have permeated my mind lately. It ended pretty much the same way, unfortunately. And I spent much time thinking about how things can turn on a dime and stressing about life and the future. But in its wake was left something I never expected, but desperately needed, a perspective on what is truly important in life.

I began writing this a few days ago, and I started with a completely different thought process. In that moment, I focused mostly on the punches I had taken over the past month, and there were quite a few.

The month began with my car being totaled, while it was parked no less. A fairly impressive feat, to say the least as most need to be moving to total their car. This necessitated the always aggravating process of dealing with insurance companies, searching for new wheels, and the worst part, dealing with car salesmen. Anyone who has ever purchased a car knows how painful this process can, but should not, be. Suffice to say, the experience led me to see where all of those car purchase stories originate.

By the time the month hit the third week, my computer crashed. As I use it not only for personal things but also as my primary tool for work, this had the potential as an absolute nightmare. Everything I have worked on, and been working on, was locked on a hard drive that I could no longer boot. I spent the weekend in sheer panic mode, fretting that so many things I had worked on were potentially lost forever.

And as the month came to a conclusion, I pulled one additional bad card on the draw. I suffered the worst pinched nerve I have ever had. It went from my neck and traveled down my back and past the shoulder blade. For two days, I could barely move my neck, and never without excruciating pain. As July passed, I was feeling fairly snake bitten and was contemplating my luck and how it turned seemingly sour.

So I was contemplating all of these things, my physical ailments, failing technology and being saddled with a car payment on an already stretched budget as I drove to work. I stopped at a stoplight, not far from the office, my mind swirling with all of these thoughts when a truly wonderful thing happened. I found out just how lucky I am.

As I sat there I noticed a man, sitting beside a bus stop. This man was obviously homeless, as all of his possessions and worldly goods were crammed into a beat up shopping cart by his side. He sat on a well worn cushion, one he most likely used as a bed the previous night. His legs, sticking out of a too short pair of pants, were impossibly skinny. His face was weathered from the outdoors, lack of regular meals and the hardness of the life that he has been dealt. As I watched this man, sitting in his own contemplation of his day and his life, I thought that he does not have these concerns. His concerns revolve around finding enough to eat, a place to clean up on occasion, keeping himself safe from those who would do him harm to take what little he has left from him. He has no worries about car payments or new hard drives or the small irritant of a pinched nerve. He worries about staying alive without medicine or proper care, finding a warm place to sleep at night and for some peace in a life that has none. And I bet if he had an opportunity, he would be willing to trade his problems for mine any day.

I had never seen the man before, and most likely will never see him again. The life of the homeless tends to be nomadic. Moving from area to area, away from the stares of those who feel they lower property value and wish not to be reminded of the failings of our society. And moving toward somewhere with the hope of finding a respite from the elements, of the fight to stay alive, and the chance to find someone kind enough to give them something to eat, and place to stay, and a bit of hope. So most likely I will never be able to thank this man, because in the few seconds I spent watching him, he gave me something invaluable. He gave me the gift of perspective, and it allowed me to see things in a new light.

With my eyes now focused with this new light, I looked upon the previous month in a new way. July had many great things to it. I was able to spend the July 4th holiday at the house of two close friends, who in the next year will stand before friends and family and pledge their love and lives to each other. Being able to partake in their generosity of opening their home to friends and family to spend the holiday with them was a memory I will not soon forget. I was able to attend the wedding of two friends, a couple who share a strong bond of love and friendship, and revel in their joy. I was able to attend the birthday party of a friend, one who I find a great and genuine person, and being invited to celebrate the occasion with him I felt was a precious gift in itself. My fiancé and I were feted by friends in celebration of our impending nuptials. And the efforts put forth by them, and their presence at the party, showed us how much we mean to them, and more importantly how much they mean to us. And the month ended with a great weekend spent playing games and watching one of my favorite films with great friends, who came to our house to spend the evening with food, drink and camaraderie. These are all things that are a part of a great life.

And as for the bad things, once I thought more of each one they all had a silver lining. The car situation seemed bad, but the outcome was far from it. I learned many things of how to deal with insurance companies, body shops and the process of having a car totaled something that may come in handy one day. Hopefully not, but the knowledge is always good to have. I was not in the car when it happened, so my physical being was never injured, which is always a good thing. I now have a fantastic, and funny, story from my dealings at the car dealership, and a funny story can go a long way. And while I was enjoying not having a car payment, it is something I can afford without breaking the bank. And I ended up with a vehicle I have wanted for some time, and one that will be beneficial for me in the coming years.

The computer situation felt devastating at the time, but now, it showed me what matters most. I learned how to recover from such a catastrophe, and computer knowledge is always a good thing. I managed to save everything I had done and worked on. And most importantly, I learned how much writing meant to me. Of all of the things I could have potentially lost, my writing was the one thing that I kept coming back to time and again. The thought of losing work made me ill, and worried me to no end that all that effort and creativity might be gone forever. The realization struck me hard, that despite my own misgivings, personal demons and self doubt, I know what direction to work toward for my future.

And finally, the nerve issue. Yes, it was painful and annoying. But it was merely that, painful and annoying. It eventually passed, without any permanent damage. And it made me realize that as I get older, I need to take better care of myself. As the saying goes, I am not as young as I used to be. With that firmly in mind, I finally began to exercise again, working to make sure I can keep this aging vessel in sturdy and functioning shape for many more years.

No, July was not a rough month, as I once thought. It was a great month, filled with eye opening revelations, fantastic events and life long memories. And thanks to one man who has lost much, I realized how much I really have in this life. And compared to many, I have much to celebrate and enjoy. Life does interrupt, but not as I once thought. It interrupts our ability to recognize the life we have and enjoy what is around us. Thankfully, I got just the dose of perspective I needed to open my eyes. And from what I can see, there are a lot of good things out there as long as we allow ourselves to see them.