It’s cold tonight.
Alaskan Malamute weather.
I can imagine my parents’ large dogs have a little more wag in their tails these days because of it.
Heck, I’m feeling a little more wag in my tail lately, too.
Well, if I had one, I mean.
Do you ever take the time to be grateful? To articulate the great wash of feeling that comes over you as you shake off sleep in the morning?
Sometimes I try to; sometimes I think about practicing deliberateness.
It comes out like a prayer, this exhale of thankfulness.
For this, I think, as I come home every night to warmth. To a warm yellow glow from the lamps that are lit. And for this, too, I think as I cut up old shirts I bought from the Salvation Army in order to make something brand new.
If that’s not a metaphor for the way life can crawl you into a dark constricted area, and–right when you have resigned yourself to spending the next forever there–march you out into the sunlight with gossamer wings and the new title butterfly–then I don’t know what is.
And definitely for this, I think as I read the continued text thread by which my whole family talks to each other. Jokes and requests for prayer and the relating of good news and bad news, too. But the point is we communicate. And the more people I meet, the more I realize how invaluable it is to come from a family who not only talks to each other, but really likes doing it, too.
And an even greater point is the the act of living deliberately. Of breaking down your feelings and expressing them. Especially when it’s gratitude. Which is something I believe you can cultivate and nurture every single day.