I know I complain all the time, but not all the time REALLY. At some point – probably far too late in life – I realized how ugly it is and how no one really wants to listen to someone whine.
So I do things to try to remember gratitude and thankfulness and grace in small things (as Schmutzie would say).
I don’t have too many spiritual practices, but every day when I wake up, I say a simple prayer, stolen from a Pops Staples song:
Thank you God for another day
Help my brother along the way
And please bring peace to the neighborhood.
Then my second stop comes when I walk out the front door and touch my Hamsa, take a moment to breathe and to observe the beauty of the morning as Goldie waits impatiently for her walk. I say the Unity prayer for protection:
The light of God surrounds me;
The love of God enfolds me;
The power of God protects me;
The presence of God watches
Wherever I am, God is, and all is well.
Except I say “us” instead of “me” because, well, the dog.
Those tasks done, I try to carry that spirit throughout the day. Sometimes I make it. Other times I haven’t gotten down the block before I’m screaming “OH COME ON!” at some moron who is driving like an idiot braised in jerkwad sauce.
You never know – it’s kind of a crapshoot whether Thankful Suebob or New York Cabbie Suebob will show up for work, depending on factors like the weather, the extent of my lateness, and on my hormonal balance that particular day.
There’s someone on twitter that I had to filter out lately. It doesn’t matter who she is, but she has what would seem to be a great life – a job anyone would want, a few kids, she’s always traveling hither and yon – and yet, almost every day she’s grumbling about things.
Her coffee isn’t hot, or there isn’t coffee, or there isn’t enough coffee. And the day is too long and the emails too many. And the weekend is so far away…
I want to take her by the shoulders and say:
Look. If you have food to get you through the day, you’re already better off than about half the world’s population. As a woman, you’re treated better than 99.9% of women in human history. You don’t live in a war zone, or under a terribly oppressive government, or in a malarial zone. So shut up and enjoy the great good bounty that has been given you.
But I don’t. Because that would be aggressive and mean and would just upset her more. Because I have my days, too. Because it wouldn’t change anything. Because it’s not really my business, and because the lovely makers of TweetDeck gave me the filter feature. And mostly? Because I can come here and blog about it. Thank you for listening.
Do you have any gratitude practices?