1,000 Things to be Grateful For : 100 Days of Gratitude, Day 1

A few days ago someone told me about the 100 Happy Days Challenge. I checked out the website and I think it's great to take note of all the things you're happy about...but why is it a challenge? It says "Can you be happy for 100 days in a row? You don't have time for this, right?" I'm here to tell you that you have time to be happy every single day in a row forever, and that's probably what this project is about. There are things each day that happen in and around our lives that are truly miraculous. Taking moments to think about and even record these things are gifts that we should give to ourselves and the people that help make us happy.

I call it gratitude. And gratitude is a constant lesson in my life that I absolutely love and turn to daily. It can change your day. It can change your life. The first time I ever did any real work with gratitude I was asked to write for 5 pages in my journal about everything I was grateful for. If I ran out? I kept going. It started off with things like

• I'm grateful for my family
• I'm grateful for my beautiful home

and by the fifth page I was getting really creative

• I'm grateful for my hardwood floors, because I hate carpet

and things like that. It was such an amazing exercise. I could go on for 10 pages, 20 pages! It would be boring to read, and to write, but I could do it. And so could you! There are always things. Sometimes I have bad days, and these are the most important days for me to make my list.

• I'm grateful I'm not homeless
• I'm grateful I have all my limbs

I know a lot of folks think they're too cool to be grateful. But you're not. When someone tells me they don't have time to be grateful I ask them if they have time to feel shitty. I know at times my friends are annoyed when they complain to me and I tell them to hang up and write down 10 things they're grateful for. I've even been known to say "Gratitude is the attitude", how annoying is that? Ha! But I say it because we should all be humbled in the face of our problems, even when those problems are completely valid. But I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I'm just telling you what I'm doing.

I usually do my gratitude list before I open my eyes in the morning and as soon as I close them at night, but for the next 100 days I'm going to do them here on my blog. I'm going to make time to do it. 10 a day, for 100 days. 1,000 things to be grateful for. Enjoy, chime in, and if you're having a good day, maybe start one of your own. If you're having a bad day, definitely start one of your own. There's only one rule: No negativity in the list! For example, I can't say

• I'm grateful I don't have a job right now since I can't work, even though it also means I have no money!

No. This does not work. Gratitude only.

Day 1

1. I'm grateful that my surgery went really well last week.
2. I'm grateful that some people I love dearly came to see me after my surgery and make me smile.
3. I'm grateful that my mom took care of me when I got out of the hospital.
4. I'm grateful that I don't have to go to an office and I have the comfort of recovery in my own home.
5. I'm grateful to have great friends who have been calling, texting, sending things, etc. to let me know they're thinking about me and they want me to heal soon.
6. I'm grateful for Derby Blue, who is ok with me walking really slowly when I take her out and is content to lay about most of the day.
7. I'm grateful for Bob Ross, who I somehow got into today because, well I guess I needed to, and I'm grateful for his genuine loving words. 
8. I'm grateful for my breakfast burrito I had this morning. It was so filling and delicious! 
9. I'm grateful for my niece and nephew, that I got to see them so much in the past few days and soak up all their amazing love.
10. I'm grateful that watching a bunch of kids run around in the grass for a few hours reminded me to remember to play. 

an excerpt

“

My second grade teacher liked to ask us,
“How do you feel today, on a scale of one to ten?”
Ten always meant I’m super, thank you 
and one was always not today, Mrs. MacAuley, not today.
But I never liked numbers, they would always
twist and rebel against my mind so I chose
to speak in colors instead.

January third - I am the color
of mint chocolate chip ice cream
but I’ve eaten all the chocolate chips.
I am calm.

February seventh - I am a bruise of
blues and violets today. I think it would
be best if I sat by the window.
These are unhappy colors.

April eleventh - I am turquoise, I am magenta,
I am every color in the rainbow.

April thirtieth - I am gray, I am silent.

May first - I am orange, the color of melting
creamsicles on a beach in July.

June twelfth - I am as yellow as the school bus
that will bring me home to summer. I am free.

Twelve years later, I still use colors.
The winter makes me feel cobalt blue, the ocean
turns me a seafoam green. Violets and purples
leave me uneasy and scarlet is a fever of fury.
Some nights I drown in shades of navy, denim,
and cornflower but other nights I meditate in forests of
harlequin and shamrock.

But you,
you leave me a blinding white followed by a soft yellow:
the color of sunlight after a period of darkness.

”

—	Kelsey Danielle, “A Diary of Colors”

Shwomb

Getting out of the shower is really hard for me. I imagine it being something like coming out of the womb. You've been in there forever and it's all nice and warm, and nothing can happen to you in your little cocoon. Nobody can yell at you or fire you or make you the butt of a joke that they say is just a joke but it still really hurts your feelings and is embarrassing. They just can't, because you're in there and you're safe.

And then all the people in the hospital room are like "Come out, we want to meet you!!" And your mom is using all her core strength to get you out into the real world so she can see what you look like and you guys can hang out and you don't keep pushing on her bladder all day. So you say alright, because you're pretty adventurous.

You immediately regret your decision. You were so warm in there, and now you're just standing out in the open, unarmed, getting hit with the cold breeze from every direction, literally naked to the elements. And it does not feel good. Some stranger is holding you upside down while you freeze. Nudity never even occurred to you, and now you're cold and embarrassed. Finally someone wraps you up in a blanket, and the battle begins for you to stay warm enough for the rest of your earthly life. The calm rhythmic heartbeat echoing in your universe is gone, and now all you hear are too many voices, and one especially loud and screeching wail. You realize it's you making that noise and then comes your first wave of self resentment.

You wanna go back. You should have stayed in. But now you're here.

Now, you are here.

And the only way to move is forward.

So I always do end up getting out of the shower, eventually.

Cosmic World Map

Thirty

I just googled "Where can I buy time?"

I wasn't trying to start an esoteric conversation with the internet. I actually want to buy the latest issue of Time Magazine. Their cover story is about The Mindful Revolution, as they're deeming it, and more specifically finding focus in our high stress environment. And it's a good thing I wasn't looking for answers to one of life's most difficult questions on the internet, because all the search yielded were some ideas about the best time to buy ipads and where to invest in housing this year. I feel compelled to tell you that a related search was "can you buy a panda". I also learned that there's a website and group of people dedicated to retiring the penny. According to this site, in 2011 it actually cost 2.4 cents to mint a penny, so adjusting for inflation, that's approximately I don't care about math.

Not that I don't think about time. I keep getting reminded because yesterday was my 30th birthday. This past weekend, the last of my twenties, I spent with my 2 favorite toddlers, visiting my grandma in the nursing home she just moved into, and eating fro yo on my couch with some white wine on a Scott Caan Netflix bender. And I loved it.

A decade ago, when I was about to turn 20, I was in college, my major was undeclared and I had no idea what was happening in my life. I've since graduated, lived and traveled all over the world, and been through so much "life experience" that it's no wonder I often feel exhausted. When I first thought about turning 30 I was socially programmed to measure my time in milestone accomplishments like promotions, marriages, babies, etc. But those aren't the things I count. What I'm proud of is the internal work I've done that has made me a better person for all who surround me. That after 30 years on this earth I know who I am and what is important to me. And I know that the people who I love are aware of that love without any doubt. That's what I'm proud of. That's what I've accomplished.

I am so glad I don't have to be a twentysomething anymore! Bring it on, 30's. I'm ready for what's next.

2013 in Photographs

 

 

Late August in Maine

Other than a weekend camping trip to Big Sur last fall, I hadn't traveled in a while. The itch was getting to me; I feel so restless at times, and traveling is one of the best ways to expand ones own mind.

When my great aunt Edie (pictured below) told me she was renting out a house in Maine for the month of August I asked her if I could come and stay for a week. Was that rude of me to invite myself? I don't know, but after a summer of working and showing visitors around San Diego I was 1. Ready to go somewhere new and 2. Really sick of the Zoo. Edie said yes and I spent a lot of my dollars on a plane ticket to Portland.

The first thing I did when I touched down was go to Dunkin Donuts. I have missed it so much! America doesn't run on Dunkin, only the east coast does, and I was happy to get my hands around the blue collar cup for the first time in almost a year.

Portland had all the Colonial charm of a ritzier New England town but with a sleepy fishing village laid backness to it and a desire to "keep it weird" that mirrored the northwest's Portland, Oregon. The food was fresh and locally grown, the wine was mostly Californian, and the people were a mix of stocky fisherman and skinny kids in all black with recreational piercings.

I got to be there at the summer's end, to see the last of the heirloom tomatoes at the farmer's market and the first of the crisp autumn apples. I sampled every cheese I could get my hands on and took time out for reading and writing in the rooftop garden of the house my aunt rented. I ate too much. I had lengthy talks with my great aunt and cousin, Rachel. We spoke about family and partnerships. Edie told us tales of her late husband, our uncle Richard. I hope I find a love like that and have the good sense to hold on to it. I hope I am as alive as Edie is when I'm a great aunt myself. I hope I'm as alive as she is today, at 29. I'm grateful to have spent time with my family, to see a new and lovely place, and for the breeze that kept me cool on the rooftop.