Monday, February 01, 2010

Earlier this evening, I was blathering on about how I really had nothing to write about. If I'm going to be honest, that's not entirely true.

I've been having a hard time with things--with life--especially in the past few months.

The truth is, I'm tired. And not just the physical tiredness that I often feel after weeks and months of sporadic and erratic sleep.

Every morning, I wake up and I don't want to get out of bed. I want to just keep laying there and indulge in feeling sorry for myself. It's not healthy, of course, so I get up, paste a smile on my face and somehow get through the day. But that's all I do. I just get through. I have too much to do and not enough time.

I don't talk about what's bothering me. It's not that I'm ashamed of my feelings or embarrassed that I can't "do it all". I mean, nobody can really do it all, except for on television shows that are neatly wrapped up in an hour. Obviously, my life is not a television show. If it were, I'd like to think that all of this--this stuff that's been happening--is leading up to the series finale where finally, blessedly, everything comes together and everyone gets the happy ending they deserve.

In an effort to snap myself out of my funk, I'm forcing myself to post my gratitude list. For years, I've made a point to think about things each day that I'm happy about and things that I'm grateful for. Instead of just thinking about it, I think I need to start sharing it. Here goes...

1. Moonlight washing over snow covered fields, giving my little corner of the world an ethereal blue glow that I only imagined to exist in fairy tales.

2. Big brown eyes gleaming from the face of my girl, seeking answers in my face and knowing that nothing but truth will come from me.

3. A rough hand gently rubbing my back, not needing words, just comforting me after a long crying spell that left me too tired to speak.

4. A little bit of new music to soothe my weary soul.

5. A safe place to be vulnerable.

6. Paint, waiting to be blended and swept across canvas, creating something out of nothing.

7. A small brown wish box, waiting to be filled...with wishes...with prayers. My own personal mailbox to God.

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