I began the Sunday Gratitude Journal because I often hit a patch of melancholy on Sundays--as though I'm not doing enough, not good enough, not thin enough—that I don't have enough time, and I'm not using the time I have well enough. Insecurities heap up like old receipts in my purse.
Today is one of those days, and I'm grateful for the Gratitude Journal, which reminds me of all the good things.
My sleepy cat, for example.
I might be thankful for the same things every week. Every day. It's good for me to remember them.
I'm grateful for my friends who continually inspire me.
I'm grateful that I can take time out for this—that I am able to take for granted shelter and food and clothing and a job. But I don't take them for granted. I am grateful for them. Every day.
And I'm grateful for opportunities and whatever poems come my way—the ones I write and the ones written by others that I read and feel myself knocked off my feet. I'm very grateful for that.
Open the door. Open my heart.