I began a gratitude journal several months ago. One morning, a few weeks back, I realized that I had drifted from the simple composition notebook’s original purpose and had allowed myself to use my scribing time and those pages as a platform for my rants about whatever happened to be bothering me on that particular morning. I had strayed from the initial intention.
When I realized what happened, I made mindful efforts every morning to write about the things that I was grateful for. That first day, I wrote and wrote. In the days that followed, some days consisted of only one or two things, but I wrote with the intention of highlighting my blessings.
And then there was yesterday.
I was hurt, angry, broken, lost…exhausted from arguments and emotions that had hit like a train wreck the night before. So I very deliberately REFUSED to write. I didn’t want to find anything to be grateful for, I didn’t want to feel good and smile remembering the joy these things brought me. I wanted to stay in the mindset that I was in-bruised, resentful, grieving and bitter.
It rained all day yesterday, and, as is its tendency, it cleansed the blood and dirt and tears. It settled the dust and washed away some of the pain.
It provided clarity.
This morning, prior to reaching for my mala, my book, or even my coffee, I reached apologetically for that composition notebook I had so cruelly chosen to shun yesterday. I gently opened to the next blank page..
While I did not write things I was specifically grateful for, I did write the following:
In hindsight, each and every single day that we can get up, take a breath and BE is something to be grateful for. Even on those days that you make the intentional and conscious choice to NOT think about al of the things that you have to be grateful for-because you’re tired, or angry or frustrated-even on the worst of days, if we quiet ourselves and place our hand over our still beating heart, we will certainly find much to be grateful for.