I have a beautiful gratitude journal. It was sent to me by a beautiful friend.
Unfortunately, it’s still beautifully blank, because what if I write the wrong thing?
Yes, really. This is how my mind works. Or doesn’t work, depending on how you look at it. You could consider a state of anxiety, a requirement for an undefined perfection so great that it prevents action as being non functional I think.
So the idea that somehow I can journal my way to happiness has so far been a bit of a non starter.
But I do have a blog. (Several in fact, but I’m talking about this one right now.) It’s been very impersonal recently, because I’ve been struggling to work out what personal things I can put into words.
So here are my gratitudes.
I am grateful for time. And space. Sky. Books. And friends.