Most mornings, I putz around and think of things to be grateful for: my coffee (okay, it's my coffee a lot), my slippers, my friends, the roof over my head, butter. I know I should be grateful for these things, and I AM grateful for them. I have a healthy baby, a loving husband, amazing friends, and in most ways in my life I have Enough. No matter how much I am struggling, it's hard to stay cranky when you are listing the good things in your life.
But this morning? I just wasn't feeling it. I mean sure I like my coffee. My slippers are comfy. I know I'm lucky to have a warm house and a comfy sweater and butter. So much butter. But did I feel grateful? Did it give me that warm, fuzzy, you-can't-be-mad kind of feeling?
I wrote a list several times and deleted it. It felt shallow. Contrived. I was fully ready to give up, to give myself permission to just not feel grateful this morning. And that would have been okay. But instead I wrote this:
Today I am grateful for my baby's smiles, for experiences that have taught me empathy and for the chance to be part of something. #listof3— story3girl (@story3girl) January 5, 2012
And as soon as I wrote it, I got that sense of peace again. Because I truly am grateful for every moment of my life. And if I can be grateful even for the hardest of moments? Then what do I have to be cranky about?