Habitual Gratitude

Today I am grateful for quiet moments in a quiet house, and the awe of the morning sky. On the Christian calendar today is Good Friday, commemorating the crucifixion of Jesus. It is a day that carries a heaviness, a sadness, grief. I recall the somber church services of the Good Fridays of my youth.  I am thinking about the people in my life who are today carrying the weight of significant burdens, the weight of serious physical and mental health challenges, the weight of declining in old age, the weight of grief and loss, the weight of addiction.  So this quote, from poet Jack Gilbert, seemed fitting: "We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the  ruthless  furnace of the world."  We all have our crosses to bear. We can all help lessen and lighten the burden of others. And we are better able to carry our own weight and help others with theirs when we "accept our gladness."  When we honor today for the gift it ...

Today I am grateful for my first bike ride of the year, and for the motivation to eat healthy and keep a few pounds off. I am grateful for the ways grace and gratitude show up in my days, when I am paying attention. I haven't done a 3 x 3 lately, so how about a running one now?  Try it yourself on anything you want. It helps further explore and deepen gratefulness. Pick anything or anyone, list 3 reasons why you are grateful for that person, thing, or situation. You can stop there. Or you can put three more things under each of your first three. Like me, you may just find that 3 x 3 > 9. Running 1. Being able to be outside.       a. Enjoying the fresh air.       b. Listening to the birds as their numbers and songs grow this time of the year.       c. Running past a brown and gray hillside, knowing that in a few weeks it will be green and alive. 2. A clearer head.      a. I don't run with a radio anymore. I ...

Today I am grateful for modern medicine and the options people have for help when sick or injured. I am also grateful that the sun is out this morning and there is hope in the light it brings. Cancer. Damn cancer. On a good day, it only lurks in the far recesses of my mind. My scars are a familiar part of me. My health is never taken for granted. I try to have healthy habits and take life-sustaining actions each day. But cancer is very wily, very mysterious. Evil. Our own cells turning on us, sometimes taking parts of us, sometimes taking all. It is non-discriminatory and nobody asks for it. It can happen in anyone and it is not fair in any way, shape, or form. It spreads fear and dread, just like it spreads abnormal cells and creates tumors. Each day around the world, people face new diagnoses, surgeries, treatment, and death at the hands of cancer. Recently, it has moved from the recesses of my mind to the front again, loud and glaring. Last year, my sister Leonice faced a ca...

Today I am grateful for long-time recovery friends and our shared experiences. I am also grateful for a different pace to my days while on a break from work. There are two dates that loom especially large in my gratitude practice: February 12, 1995 and March 27, 2012. The first date signifies the inaugural entry in my inaugural gratitude journal. That was thirteen journals and 23 years ago.  The second marks the launch of this blog, six years ago today, and over 1,850 posts ago. Thank you to my friend Terrie for giving me my first gratitude journal and urging me to try the  practice of gratefulness as a way to temper my propensity for ego-driven self-pity. Thank you to my sister Danita for a random email that gave me the name for this blog and the impetus to take the leap into the blogosphere. Between the journals and this blog, that is a lot of gratitude practice. I prefer to call it living gratefully. It took practice to start living it. Plenty of practice. Both my dai...

Today I am grateful for music and words that spark memories, and for the old photo album Sam and I were looking at together yesterday. Such sharing between generations is so important. In our part of the world, we had fairly substantial snowfall this winter, and it piled up rather than melting much in between the times we got dumped on. There was even a dusting of snow overnight last night. It likely isn't the last we will see this season yet either. We have seen melting in recent weeks, but it has definitely been a slow melt. There is more grass, trail, road, etc. showing, but it is taking time emerging. Patience is required, but not always easy to come by. It's a good lesson in acceptance and letting go. Spring, green grass, leaves on trees; these are all worth waiting for. From the standpoint of less flooding and erosion, as well as better moisture absorption into the soil, a slow melt is also desirable and beneficial. A slow melt can be healthier for our mental and ...

Today I am grateful for laughter and fun with recovery friends and for forgiveness of self and others. On Friday I was considering the value of "just keep going." Today I am focusing on "just stop."  There is a time and a place for both, and sometimes I get them mixed up. I may keep going when it is best to stop. I may stop when I should have just kept going. At other times, though, I get it right. I keep going and make it through a tough moment, day, or time in my life. Or I stop and regroup, get some heathy perspective back, and proceed in better fashion. This is the story of our lives. Knowing when to push and when to step back. Knowing when to let go and surrender, when to embrace and overcome. I don't always get it right. I never will. At least I am better able to catch myself when I am in the wrong mode, or catch myself sooner anyway. Less damage done. Less frustration. Less wasted energy. Fewer precious moments or gifts missed. Some recent lessons...

Today I am grateful for phone conversations with my sisters Mary Jo and Leonice yesterday, and for an early morning run today. One footfall at a time, I just kept going. Just keep going. I was thinking about some people in my life facing current challenges. Serious health issues. Ongoing grief. Just keep going. The late miles of a marathon are a good place to apply this as well. My first full-time teaching job, at age 23, was a bit of a blur for the first year. I got the job just weeks before school started. I had three or four different courses to prepare for during the year. I worked very hard to stay ahead in my lesson plans and having materials ready.  This was before computers and even readily available copy machines. I made many copies on a ditto machine. I also did some coaching. I worked a lot. Long hours. I was tired. A lot. I got a callous on my finger from writing so many notes. I lacked confidence in my teaching ability. I was in my last year of drinking too. L...