The good old days
This morning, during my walk with sweet Beezus, I was reminded over and over again how my life is so good. And I wanted to share a few things I’ve been especially grateful for lately.
How persistence has allowed me to prevail whenever writing starts to feel like a chore, and I finally feel myself craving it once again. And now, whenever I make out a sentence that is pure and true to me, it feels like relief, like a release, and not grasping at everything to find something to put out there.
How recovery from pain is a reminder of the support that surrounds me. It remains solid and powerful, like layers and layers of thick concrete, unable to be penetrated.
How my little family makes me feel alive and joyful, and I get to start my days enveloped in their love for me. I am acutely aware of how lucky I am that I spend the first moments of every morning giggling about dreams and inside jokes with my partner, and the last moments of every night getting back rubs so my thoughts can slow down and make room for slumber. And every moment in between caught in laughter.
How my dog keeps me grounded. Even when I’m stressed from work, or anxious from the world outside, as soon as I sit with her and slowly pet her soft little head, I feel anchored by her desire for nothing more than a few minutes alone and still with just each other. And these pauses are the memories I want to keep forever.
How my home is my home. As soon as I enter through that front door, I feel immense relief that I am here. I don’t need to be anywhere else, or act like anyone else. Simply being here and being me is enough.
Weaving in gratitude throughout my day has allowed me to thrive in a world where headlines grab you and shake you to bits, and people grab you and shake you to bits. I am not just existing. I approach my days with optimism and humor. One day, maybe tomorrow or maybe a decade from now, I will look back and remember how these are the good old days. So why not make them just wonderful now?
