I’ve been thinking about gratitude a lot lately.
My gratitude practice has been life-changing (not an overstatement) and it’s only been three years. Or it’s already been three years. Or it’s been a whopping three years. I can’t decide which best describes it. There were long seasons where it was a struggle and I didn’t want to make a freaking gratitude list because life was really shitty. And there were other times when the list grew and grew out of control because there was just so much to put on there.
It’s Christmas Eve and I’m sitting under my favorite quilt. There’s a gooey rum cake in the fridge and my dog is happily curled up in the sunshine. The kiddo? She’s upstairs, playing Mario Brothers–her new favorite thing. My boyfriend (yeah, he’s great) is sanding and staining a shelf for our kitchen nook. Our Christmas tree is significantly larger on one side than the other and the ornaments are unevenly distributed. There are presents under the tree–most of them with too many bows. My Christmas cactus is full of silky white blooms and there is nothing for me to do today but write and relax.
It’s me. It’s been awhile, I know. Surely you’re used to this nonsense by now.
In the time I’ve been gone, a thing or two has happened, as they often do.
This might be an uncomfortable time for you. It is for me. Many of us have been living in a really comfortable age where we didn’t have to stand for much of anything because none of what we loved was under threat. That’s privilege.
You are strong. You will continue growing and getting stronger because that’s who you are. Remember who you used to be and how far you’ve come.
I am wrong far more often than I’d like.
I make mistakes like it’s going out of style and have to take a really hard look at who I am at my core at least once a week.
It is tempting in this strange world we live in to judge and categorize all my experiences and decisions in a misguided—but well-intended—effort to make some sense of things.
Our country is a frightening place right now. People on both sides of the political spectrum are spewing hatred, desperate to be heard, understood, and acknowledged. Hate crime is on the rise and anyone who is not white and straight finds themselves in a place of uncertainty and fear. As a straight, white person, I see how privileged I am and my heart breaks for those who find themselves in a world that is not safe or welcoming.
oh, vast soul, whose only
worth is measured by
the body she’s been
It’s a tiny word–two letters packed full of power and boundaries and healing.
Why is it so difficult to say? Continue reading