The healing gratitude

In a world filled with movement and change, war and chaos, it is easy to lose yourself in the daily demands and the constant stream of news broadcasts. But amidst all this chaos, there is a powerful feeling that has the ability to heal. Anyone who has ever ventured into the jungle of self-help books and courses is probably familiar with this business of practicing gratitude. Sure, it may sound "clichéd," but the truth is that we have it pretty good in our part of the world. 

Last Saturday, I got up early and worked away at what was on my "to-do list" to get some free time in the sunlight, and it was so lovely.

Here it is difficult to feel anything other than deep gratitude. Sure, my ski track had drifted over again and there was no warmth in the wind, but the sun shone and the snow sparkled.

I have traveled many miles here over the years, every little marsh island is familiar, and there is something reassuring in that.

I have taken myself through every turn in this stream by canoe and on skis in winter, just that, like. Think of having the opportunity to take a trip like this whenever you want.

And every winter I wonder if the beaver is lying in there in his lodge waiting for spring?

When I set off, I must admit that I was a bit weighed down by the realization that a project that I had spent a lot of time on for a couple of months had actually turned out to be a real "misthink" and a real failure. But when, on the way home, I came to this little hill, it felt like a paltry problem and the thought that it was really petty of me to feel that way came over me. If you have it so outrageously nice, it's actually not the end of the world if everything doesn't go right at once. Sometimes you have to start over and do it right, and with gratitude as the first thought, I'm actually clearing files in my computer, creating a new folder and starting over with sun in my mind.

Imagine that the silly exercise: What am I grateful for today? would prove to be more effective than all the distance sessions I have sweated along the seemingly endless marshes here in our part of the world.