My Robe and Perspective

A few nights ago, I was taking my usual pre-bedtime shower. My nightly ritual is precise- I need to feel impeccably clean as I slide into bed, my feet must be well-moisturized (I can't stand the feeling of dry feet), and the sheets have to feel fresh and clean.

The transition from shower to bed is critical; any disruption in this feeling of cleanliness, and I'm compelled to shower again. That's where my robe comes in to play, yes, I am indeed a robe enthusiast.

About a year ago, I stopped using our master bathroom for showers. The reason? It's spacious and white, which makes it a challenge to keep clean, especially with our well water. If you've ever dealt with well water, you understand. Instead, I opt for the smaller, easier-to-maintain bathroom in our office, dark gray grout, and dark gray tile, easy to clean. That night, however, I made a rare mistake- Iforgot to bring my robe with me.

As I showered, I resigned myself to the inevitable sprint I’d have to make to retrieve it, choosing not to resort to yelling in hopes someone hears me and brings it to me. But, as if on cue, the universe had other plans. Normally, my wife starts her own bedtime routine and rarely ever makes her way in the vicinity of where I shower. But that night, midway through, she unexpectedly walked into the bathroom. Her timing was serendipitous, though her reasons for entering are still unknown. Maybe it was just for a peek! Confused but relieved, I asked if she could fetch my robe. With a kind and simple "sure," my crisis was averted.

At that moment, I found myself silently expressing gratitude not just for the convenience of having my robe brought to me by my loving wife, but for the life and relationships I am blessed with. It was a humbling reminder of the abundance of love surrounding me, in contrast to the usual focus on what I perceive as lacking in my life.

Earlier that day, my friends and I had exchanged video messages as we do so often focused mostly on what we don't have, a sentiment of dissatisfaction of our lives that’s become too familiar. Like many, I often find myself torn between contentment and a relentless ambition, struggling to appreciate the fullness of my life amid thoughts of what could be better.

That evening brought a more appropriate perspective. As a father of teenagers, I frequently discuss the importance of gratitude and a broader worldview that transcends self. Ironically that evening, I found myself needing that same conversation. It’s a daily battle between ambition and appreciation, but as my wife gently put the robe down on the bathroom counter, gratitude prevailed. It was a gentle nudge towards contentment, and I hope, with time, that contentment finds its way to the forefront more often.