the latitude and longitude
on a good day it’s easy to be grateful. for everything.
on a bad day, it’s hard to be grateful for anything.
i’m working hard at on staying on the good side.
of course it doesn’t always work, some days, no matter what, i grouse and complain and cry woe is me. and some days i even have good reason to.
some nights i sit on the couch just before i go to bed and feel like crying, because i’m tired and i’m worried about my business and about money and about my kids and my parents and usually a whole long list of other things that i really shouldn’t be worried about.
other nights i sit on my couch just before i go to bed and i add up all the things i have to be grateful for. i start with the fact that i have a couch, i have a house, i have a fire to sit in front of, food in my cupboard, a roof over my head. i have a soft bed to get into, a husband lying there next to me, three wonderful children.
one dog. six cats. (here i waiver between gratitude and disbelief).
for now, i still get to work from home. i have a garden. birds at my feeders. tea every morning. books to read. seasons to monitor. good shoes. flowers in a vase. words in my pocket. chocolate. warm quilts. wool socks. love.
yes, i whine when there is too much work and not enough money. there are days when i feel like i am running in place on a treadmill of my own design. i cry when i am hurt, i fume when i am angry, i pout when i am depressed.
but really, i have nothing to complain about. it isn’t perfect, my life. it isn’t easy.
but it’s my life.
that in itself is enough to be grateful for when you think about it. and i think about it. a lot.
i’ve learned a lot this year. about myself, about the world, about life. i’ve relearned things i had forgotten, i’ve discovered things i never knew. i’ve made more friends than i can count, i’ve expanded my horizons. through it all, i found the gratitude. i said my thanks. i embraced so many moments.
life is hard. life is good. life is life.
nothing is perfect. nobody’s perfect. life is life.
i sit here on my couch in front of my fire and i think about all these things and when there are tears i let them fall and when there are smiles i let them shine and when i remember to be grateful to be alive and it all starts to make sense again and the shadows on the wall make me stop what i am doing just to stare them, well, then i know just exactly where i am.
i am there.
five degrees south of hope.
two degrees north of thankful.
in this place called life.