Winter has me down bad, y’all. Yesterday, I happily trudged several blocks through the snow, ice and atmospheric mayhem to pick up some books I’d ordered from my neighborhood bookstore. To be clear, I structured my whole damn morning around how I excited I was to go on this little sojourn.
ANYWAY, after my journey through Elsa’s vast discontent, I got to Prologue Bookshop and knocked on the door only to quickly learn that… just a couple of weeks ago… I had made this very same trek, picked up those books and, apparently, already forgotten about it.
If this season is some kind of war, winter is winning.
With that confusion fresh in mind, I woke up this morning to a bright, clear sky and felt a little lighter, a little more myself.
Today’s voice note is about that gratitude and how — thanks to my friend/poet Shira Erlichman — I’ve started a practice of writing about my gratitude every morning. In the past, I’d hear about gratitude journals and think “hmm, love that for YOU, but it’s just not for me.” But I guess it’s fair to say that I’ve been humbled into a willingness to try things I used to think I didn’t need.
There’s something liberating about sheepishly grinning and admitting that what used to work definitely ain’t working anymore.
And if you do need an excellent, invigorating book to read, I’m happy to recommend Shira’s poetry collection ODES TO LITHIUM. One line of hers that’s been on my mind quite a bit lately: “I should be able to handle my own problems is something my mouth once said to my brain.”
Being Confused Keeps Me Young