Sometimes I get myself caught up in the badness of the world. There’s so much. Not to be negative, but Jesus, this place can be a bonafide shit show. And things only feel 72 bajillion times worse with this administration at the helm. Add their antics to the general unpredictableness of people’s health and finances, add a sprinkle of tragedy–like accidents–throw in the completely shocking, the all-out miserable, the utterly unspeakable, and you want to put yourself in a padded room and pray for the apocalypse.
Here’s where I do a plug for gratitude (like “gratitude” is paying me or something). When I am in the midst of life getting all big and messy on me, I have to stop. I have to just fucking stop. And I force myself to assess all that I have. Sometimes that “all” is my morning coffee, which if you have just met me, is like, one of my top friends. Sometimes it’s my dog and his trusty and consistent love. Other times it’s the very real luxury of having a family who I know has my back. It can be a breath mint I find in the bottom of my bag, when I really need it, or fresh sheets, catmint growing out-of-control in my garden, or the fact that the pan I burned can actually be cleaned and I don’t need to throw it out and buy a new one. A sale on jewelry? Gratitude jackpot. Truffle pasta–well, don’t even get me started.
Anyway, immigrant kids (kids like your kids) are currently being held in cages away from their parents. Yes, Trump supporters, cages. So, the need for the stopping and gratituding is very real. Sometimes, t’s the only thing that keeps me going. Well, maybe that and a little truffle pasta, but I digress…….