Gratitude Journal: Daily Walks

For years now, my favorite place to go for a walk is Colonial Park.  Its gardens, its roses and flowers, its expansive sky, and its woods have long been a place I visit to refresh my spirit and soul.  I missed walking there in the Fall and Winter, when my hip was too painful for any of my usual wanderings, let alone a long walk in the park.   

My sister knew this and during the post-surgery week that KO came to look after me, she drove me to Colonial Park.  I walked a familiar sunny path with my walker and still recall the feeling of hope that filled my heart:  my visits to this happy place could resume. 

The very first day when I could drive myself, I went to the park.  This Spring, I’ve gone for a walk at the park as often as I can.   I never tire of the expansive views and the spiritual salve this place brings me. That I can now walk as long as I like without pain still feels like a miracle and I feel so much gratitude to have this place back.  It’s one I never tire of experiencing.

Gratitude Journal: January 15

With luck, one month from today, I will be on the other side of the hip replacement surgery that has occupied my every thought since the pain first became constant last August.  When I received a surgery date earlier this month, my heart opened up to the idea that I won’t have to live in the small world of crippling pain forever.  The relief I feel at having a surgery date is palpable. Aside from the pain and disability of the last 6 months, the way the situation has untethered my general optimism has been hard to bear.  It will be a good long while before I recover from the mental health disaster of draconian food restriction brought on by the requirement that I lose weight to receive medical treatment.  Being denied much-needed healthcare because of weight, especially in the absence of scientific research to support such cruelty, is appalling.  I don’t expect that I will ever again trust a doctor.  When I have seen to my recovery, I intend to speak out about the injustice of the whole situation. 

 For now, I am focused on getting to my February 14 surgery date.  And I am incredibly grateful to my son, my sister, my family members, and the friends who have helped me to get to this point and who will see me through to the other side of surgery.  Their help and willingness to celebrate the surgery date have been an incredible bright spot in this very hard patch.  My heart is full of gratitude for them, aware that I could not have made it this far alone.

Gratitude Journal: Christmas Cactus

I cling to my daily gratitude practice like the lifeline it is while I live with my painful hip and the food restriction said hip requires.  There is a hand-lettered note on my nightstand reminding me to find grace.  At the end of each day, I meditate and identify that grace.  

Pain and anxiety about my hip are my constant companion and some days, grace feels like a mighty small antidote.  But I cling to it….it’s not small unless I make it small.  Lately, a daily measure of grace can be found in my Christmas cactus.  A pretty little plant is growing from the two stalks I took from my dad’s enormous cactus.  My plant got its start in February, after my dad’s passing.  When I see it, I am reminded of him.  That it is flourishing is a source of such comfort and joy to me, and I am grateful for it on a daily basis.

Gratitude Journal: Searching for Hope

 I first began my daily gratitude practice in 2006, the year my world blew up and JT’s other mother and I separated.  Long after I recovered from that heartbreak, I continued my daily gratitude project because it made my world nicer.  When tough patches arose, daily gratitude was a helpful practice.  

Gratitude is a tool on the table as I struggle with the pain and impairment of a hip that is long overdue for replacement.  I cannot find a surgeon willing to give me a hip until I lose weight and achieve a BMI that will qualify me for surgery.  That BMI is unscientific and grounded in 18th century sexism and racism is just one of the frustrations of this journey.  The magic number can be achieved with a loss of 27 pounds.  Since my appointment with that orthopedist in September, I have lost weight, so things are moving in the right direction.  I’m doing so by eating a truly scant amount of food.  Exercise or movement to burn some calories is practically impossible because of the pain of my wonky hip.  I’ve taken to using a cane, which helps, and I am grateful for that.  But I am also incredibly angry at a health care system that denies me treatment and pushes me toward greater disability in the process.  I know that anger is neither useful nor productive and so I’m leaning in to gratitude as much as I can.   Some days that is truly a heavy lift.

Among the Trees: October 5

As I wait for hip surgery, my ability to walk in the woods is somewhat limited.  That’s disappointing, of course, though I am doing my best to consider it a temporary setback.  Once I’ve got a new hip, I’ll be back to my frequent walks in the woods.  Until then, I still find ways to admire trees.  One of those ways is daily recess duty. 

My middle school students have outdoor recess after lunch; the principal and I supervise.  We’re out on the school’s turf field, surrounded by trees and sunshine and some of these afternoons have been downright glorious.  The trees are mostly still green; Fall colors have just begun.  So I know that there will be some lovely Fall color-filled days ahead of me.  

That’s happy!

Gratitude Journal: Making It Count

I’ve fallen dreadfully behind in my writing goals for this month and the only excuse I can offer is that thanks to my bum hip, I am behind on everything.  It is no joke to live with pain like I am experiencing and the discomfort blends into every part of life.  For starters, though it’s predictable that my hip will hurt, how it will ache is not predictable at all.  Will the pain be on my right?  In  my groin?  Radiating down my thigh?  Will a formerly comfortable chair now be absolute torture?  Can I stand up easily or will such an action be accompanied by excruciating discomfort?    It is both frustrating and terrifying to be limited in this fashion.  It’s also made my daily gratitude practice more essential than ever.  

Finding gratitude in the rhythm of the day helps to ease my fears as I wait for medical science to help me navigate a solution.  It reminds me that even if things are harder right now, it’s still worth my time to try and do them.  So I cut the grass when I feel up to it; I reorganize the front porch plants at the start of the month; I make time for home-cooked suppers eaten on the back deck.  I keep trying and I am grateful for the support of the people who love me and are helping me to find my way.  For that show of affection and support, I am as grateful as I can be.

Gratitude Journal : Vermont

I took my last chunk of time off at the start of August.   JT and I headed north to Vermont for a few days.  It’s a place JT loves, with mountains and quiet that feeds his soul.  I’ve been a few times and always enjoyed it; it was nice for him to share his favorite place with me.  There was nothing special on our agenda - just some relaxing days in a beautiful location before the school year starts.  I spent a lot of time on the back deck of the tiny cabin we rented, soaking in the green woods and blue skies, reading, writing, and relaxing.  

JT went for runs on familiar trails and I went for walks.  

In the evening, we enjoyed a soak in a hot tub in the back yard of our Air B&B.  We spent a day noodling around Manchester and its amazing book store.  The trip and the days surrounding it are my last big patch of time off before the start of school.  The time was the culmination of one of the nicest summers I have enjoyed in a while.  It was nice to wrap it up with time together in Vermont.  

Everything about the state and its relaxed vibe is nice.  There is beauty around every corner.  The sky is filled with magnificent light.  These are people whose magnetic poetry kit includes the word “community.”  Right there, you know you are in good hands.

Summer Days

Our Summer started off rather cool in June and only heated up at the start of July.  The heat was briefly blistering before rains set in to keep lawns green.  It’s pretty hot and humid this week but I’ve not yet tired of the ease of Summer weather, which allows me to slip outside without worry.  The days seem relaxing as they fade into one another.  I thought about the pace of Summer as I enjoyed the shade at Colonial Park the other day. 

We’ve reached the point when Summer Break is halfway over and I’ve begun to think about the return to school in September.  It’s far enough away that I know there is still time to enjoy the relaxed pace of sunny Summer days.  But it’s also close enough that I’ve begun to regret that Summer will come to a halt.  It’s been a really nice Summer, far more relaxing than last Summer and filled with the promise of a busy but happy Fall to come.  The familiar gardens and paths of Colonial Park have provided me with plenty of pleasant strolls and more than a few quiet moments in the shade.  I am grateful for this Summer and I want to say it out loud; to mark my gratitude.  As I stroll the rose garden and smell the flowers I often feel at peace and that's awfully nice.  

Gratitude Journal: Music

A few years ago, JT gave me a little JBL portable speaker.  In the last 6 months, that little speaker has become my frequent companion.  I’ve got playlists-a-plenty and I’ve found myself enjoying a whole lot of familiar music - hello ’80s New Wave tunes - as well as music that JT has introduced me too - recent Red Hot Chili Peppers (I always enjoyed 1980s Chile Peppers), Goose, the Strokes, Billy Strings.  My tastes vary - they always have - but my enjoyment of music hasn’t.  It’s been nice to have music so easily in reach and when I wake up to a familiar song in my head, that’s even nicer.  

Gratitude Journal: The Growing Season

Since my dad’s passing in February, I’ve made it a daily habit to thank the universe for something good before I tuck in and fall asleep for the night.  It’s a good and worthwhile habit and a welcome addition to the other ways I thank the universe for the grace I find.  Acknowledging gratitude is a tried and true way for me to find peace, which I find to be a necessary step on the way toward happiness.  Over the years, the habit has kept me from being overwhelmed when sadness lingers.   

I often find gratitude in the things I spy in the natural world.  In May and June, when the weather is splendid and the world is filled with new blooms, it’s not a hard search.  There’s the bright impatiens that greet me on the front porch every day.  

Or the zinnia seedlings and canna bulbs I planted on the back deck, seeming to grow larger every day.  

As this year’s growing season takes hold, I miss my dad a great deal.  But I sense his spirit in these flowers I planted and I am grateful for his presence.

Gratitude Journal: Pot of Impatiens

I know someone who calls daily gratitude the “glimmers” in her world.  I like that way of thinking about gratitude.  For me, moments of gratitude are often a glimmer….a moment or more that feels good and happy; when the stars feel aligned and I experience a sense of contentment and peace.  I start this week with much to be grateful for.  Chief among them is the Mother’s Day celebration that JT organized for me.  I felt loved and cared for; understood and appreciated.  It was a day I will remember and reflect upon for many years to come.  

As of this week, my houseplants have been moved outdoors to soak up the warm weather and on the front deck, impatiens and geraniums keep the plants company.  That is such a happy thing in my world.

I can spy this terra cotta pot of impatiens from the rocking chair on the porch; from my cozy reading chair in the living room, and outside when I pass by the front door.   I see it when I leave home in the morning and when I come home in the evening.  The pot is just the right amount of aged; the flowers are verdant and bright and every thing about it fills me with gratitude.  That’s happy!

April Book Report: Mrs Harris Goes to Paris

Earlier this month, I went by the town library and got myself a library card.  When I was growing up, libraries were magical places and everything about them was thrilling.  Filled with the prospect of nearly endless books that I hadn’t yet read, I loved them as a girl.  As a grew up, libraries became places to study and get school work done and I loved them for that.  As a parent, JT and I visited the school library and delighted in a new stack of books to bring home.  It’s been several years since I had a little boy to take to the library but the recent news about book bans and libraries and librarians under attack reminded me of the magic I used to find in libraries.  So I looked up the hours and went to my local library.  

I am best-pleased to report that it is as delightful and happy as the libraries of my girlhood.  I came away with a stack of books and a newfound pleasure in the prospects to be found in this local treasure trove.  

This month’s book report is about a book I found at the local library, a two-volume book by Paul Gallico:  Mrs Harris Goes to Paris & Mrs Harris Goes to New York.  Written in 1958 (and turned into a film last year), the book is about the adventures of an industrious char lady from London.  Mrs Harris, a woman in her 60s, works hard cleaning the homes and tidying up on behalf of posh clients.  She’s been doing so long enough that Mrs Harris may choose her clients and lives a happy, if tiring, life in London.  It’s while she’s cleaning up after Lady Dant that Mrs Harris first sees - and touches - Lady Dant’s beautiful Dior dress.  Mrs Harris is charmed - besotted, really - and the novel is all about the char lady’s effort to acquire her very own Dior dress.  First, she scrimps and saves and finally she sets off to Paris to acquire the gown.  

The novel was a lovely and quick read, funny and clever and the sort of cheering story I love best.  A happy ending is virtually guaranteed from the first page of the novel and the adventure is in the twists and turns that unfold on the way to the inevitable happy conclusion.  Just my sort of book, always, but especially this month which has found me in need of good cheer.  Thanks to the local library (and Mrs Harris!), I found just that.  That's a blessing that will last, I expect and I am grateful for it.

Gratitude Journal: Spring Flowers

In previous iterations of my life, the search for daily gratitude has been a tool that has helped me to find my way out of darkness.  It’s not overly dramatic to say that gratitude has saved me.  I’ve never given up my daily gratitude practice.  Each night when I turn out the light, I identify something in the day for which I am grateful.  That habit has served me well in the past 18 months, which have been hard.  As I am finding my way forward into a new existence and it is my recognition of gratitude that is helping to light my way.  

April and its abundant blooms ensure that gratitude is easy to locate.  By this point in the month, there is a flower or plant beginning to bloom nearly every day.  First the purple crocuses, then the white and yellow daffodils, the hostas peaking through the soil, the pink magnolia and cherry tree flowers, the redbud and dogwood blooms, phlox preparing to open, the tulips and then the azaleas……the sunshine and these abundant blooms are a daily reminder that there is beauty to be found when I need it most.  April and May are so very lovely and I never take these beautiful days for granted. That’s happy!

Summing Up the Month: March

No month would be complete without a word graphic to help remind me of the little things that make the month lovely.  March is rather an expectant month as I wait - not so patiently - for Spring.  

Monthly Gratitude: A Valentine for Myself

Valentine’s Day can be a sucker punch if you are single, a reminder of one’s solitary status and a gate opening into some potentially difficult and unforgiving feelings.  Some years I have dreaded the day.  The last few months have been, ahem, eventful in my life so I approached the 2023 Valentine season with some wariness.  

When I was a kid, my mom treated it as a family holiday and I can remember special suppers and getting a Valentine card.  I determined to create that vibe this year and made it a day about sending love into the universe while being kind to myself. 

I am still in California helping my mom after the death of my dad and so I made sure to bring her a Valentine and a treat. We made a special supper together and because playing cards is our love language, we played cards.  I saved the heart earrings I received for Christmas to wear this month, a tiny reminder that I am worthy and loved. 

I made donations to causes I believe in, including Partners in Health and Doctors Without Borders, to support their efforts at easing the difficulties of people around the world.  A few weeks ago, I made Valentines for some friends. I planned to deliver them yesterday but I will drop them off for friends when I get home later this month.

Daily, I issue a reminder to be as kind toward myself as I try to be toward the people I love.  That's a self-care a skill I’ve had to nurture over the years.  I can’t say that the day passed with no regrets but I can write that the day landed gently.  Given the last year in my world, I’ll take it.

Notes on January

 During the “flatten the curve” portion of the pandemic, when school was fully remote, we scrambled to find activities for the students to do together on line that weren’t video games.  One of those activities was a digital word game art project called Word Pack.  It was fun and I still play with it, using the app to celebrate the month or a season.  For me, it’s a way to mark the tiny pleasures of each month. As of Thursday, in my corner of the world, January is gaining light at both sunrise and sunset.  That seems reason enough to celebrate and share my January graphic, which was mostly about being cozy at home.

Monthly Gratitude: Roxy Music's "More Than This"

This month’s gratitude is a shout out to my favorite song: “More Than This” by Roxy Music.  The song was first recorded in 1982 and released on the Avalon album.  I don’t remember where I first heard it - though it was probably on KROQ radio in LA - but I do remember that I liked it straight away.  Over the years, the song has become my very favorite.  I play it when I’m happy and when I’m sad; when I’m celebrating or feel especially grateful to the universe.  I play it just because. 

At first, the song served as a way to mark a particular moment of joy:  getting my first teaching job while in grad school; when I moved into my first house; finding out that I was pregnant; celebrating the birth of that baby; getting my job in New Jersey; moving into Sassafras House on Second Street; falling in love; doing something from my bucket list.  “More Than This” has been there for so many happy parts of my life. 

In the last few years, this song of which I never tire has become less about a particular celebration and more of a reminder to appreciate the here and now, imperfect though it may be.  I listen to “More Than This” a great deal; in some patches of time, I listen to it every day. *I know every chord of the song, the way it begins and closes, the way the notes rise and fall.  The long bridge of instrumental music at the end of the recording, a sound that reminds me of the grace I experience in this life.  I never tire of the song nor its reminder that life, as well as its trials and joys, are fleeting.  There is nothing to be gained from wishing time away and everything to be gained by embracing - and loving - what we do have.  After all, as the song reminds me, “there is nothing more than this.”

Gratitude: Playing Hearts

I love to play games - especially card games - and during Christmas in California there were a lot of opportunities to play.  I enjoyed all of it but I especially enjoyed playing Hearts on Christmas Eve. 

I spent most of my tween years resenting my kid status and remember being allowed to play Hearts with the adults with great fondness.  Seated at the table with my grandparents and parents made me feel like I was being taken seriously, the singular goal of my adolescence.  My Dad is a fiend at the game and, as I recall, he would “shoot the moon” with frequency; that he was often successful impressed me then.   

On Christmas Eve, my nephew C dealt out a game of Hearts and I played with him and my Mom and Dad.  True to my memory (and his history), Dad smoothly shot the moon on the first hand.  He did it the deadly certainty I remember from all those years ago.  My Mom saw it coming but, like the rest of us, she was powerless to stop it.  C was impressed and that was fun to see.  I haven’t played Hearts with my Dad for years but this game brought it all back.  It was one of the nicest hours I spent during my holiday and I am so grateful that C dealt me in.