Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Listing the Gratitude, one, two, three by Kat Magendie

I read somewhere that listing what one is grateful for will help one to feel that gratitude. That if one smiles, even when a frown seems to feel better, one will begin to feel happy. If I put one foot in front of the other one and walk down my mountain road, even when I’m feeling lazy, I will begin to enjoy the walk. When the words won’t come for a YOG post, just write a sentence and it will lead somewhere.

Sounds like platitudes, right? But, I lay in my bed last night, the open windows sending a nice cool breeze, and I said, “I am grateful for this soft bed. I am grateful for the breeze. I am grateful my parents are still alive. I am grateful that I ate a cookie (okay, more than one) and didn’t feel guilty for it. I am grateful I am safe.” There were some that came easily to mind, others I had to stop a bit and think about, but they came, like a line of people waiting to be touched on the head, to be recognized. I snuggled into the soft, knowing that although I can’t feel it or see it, the world is revolving round and round, and everything and everyone has a place in this world. When things are at their most chaotic, it is then the most important time to still…still. My greatest obstacle is finding that stillness. For my brain jitters, my foot jiggles, my thoughts rushing here, there, and yonder.

Listing my gratitude with my breath helps my lungs to expand and contract. I hear the words, even if at times I feel silly. Someone may hear me! Who will hear? And if they do, why would that be so bad? My chest hums with the speaking. The air is electrified. If I am feeling too private, too tired, or simply too in awe of the quiet all around me, I will list my gratitude’s silently, and there is still the expanding and contracting of my lungs as I breathe in and out. There are too many ways to become distracted with worry and chaos. Too many ways to forget that it only takes a moment to find that silent peace. Too many ways that gratitude can be forgotten. So I list them: one, two, three, four, five…and I breathe and I snuggle in and I feel really really lucky.

10 comments:

Terri Tiffany said...

I have a sheet of paper on my fridge where I list what I am grateful for-- it came really in handy when my husband had a career shift. We take so much for granted and it brings us back to the basics. I love my bed too!!! thanks for good reads.

Barbara Quinn said...

So true...listing the gratitude is better than counting sheep. It's good to remember that we can find our calm center when we focus on what we have to be thankful for.

Joanne said...

There's a line I like here. "I am grateful that I ate a cookie." Thank you, for elevating the mundane!

Angie Ledbetter said...

Seeing storm torn areas up close and personal, I find a bazillion things a day now to be thankful for...all of which I normally take for granted, like the hundreds of years old trees that are now broken and broken and stacked on the sides of every street. ;(

Kathryn Magendie said...

Oh no! not those beautiful stately oaks..... :0*(

Patresa Hartman said...

Oh, Kat. I really love this: "...but they came, like a line of people waiting to be touched on the head, to be recognized." It makes me think of a line of quiet people in church waiting to be blessed. Such an image!

Anonymous said...

Yea, the oaks took quite a pounding. Plenty of firewood for the year. May have also gotten the pecans. They taste better than acorns anyway at least to us.
Met some great guys from Michigan and Arizona. Line guys and gals helping out.
Oren (FOA)

Ami said...

I've tried to keep a gratitude journal, listing at least 5 things I'm grateful for every night before sleep. Even with the journal right by my bed, I manage to forget. But usually, once the light is off, I remember to think at least one grateful thought as I drift to sleep. Perfect end to the day.

Kathryn Magendie said...

I'm reading these comments and smiling --

Kathryn Magendie said...

except for the part about the oaks - that makes the smile quiver down to a sad frown.

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