Gratitude They Suggest

Ahh, I believe gratitude is the best way to get over any navel gazing or depression. But first you have to want to get over it. First you have to agree to turn your face from the endless void to look out at the world around. It takes energy. It takes a first step. It takes getting up off the ground and speaking. Well, metaphorically.

I am grateful to be able to take a breath in, and to let it out again. That is, after all, the most basic and most privileged state of life. Breathe in. Breathe out. I am grateful I still can think in this moment, that my brain processes are not compromised. Yes, I can think. I can translate thoughts from my brain into my fingers on the keyboard. Some kind of miracle. I am grateful for my eyes, which watch these words appear, letter by letter, by some rationally unknown process onto the screen in front of me. I lift my eyes and see the stunning shades of green and purple Jacaranda blossoms in rich, contrasting clumps. My smell is not really present at the moment. But I am grateful I have been able to smell the roses, not to mention the salt sea air, fresh coffee in the morning, the actual fragrance of fresh dew on grass. 

I am grateful to be able to touch these keys and feel what it is like to move fingers to different keys and communicate. I am grateful to be able to feel the dratted mosquito bite, the itch on the top of my hand, the texture of my jeans. I am very grateful to hear the varied bird song outside, high-pitched tweets, insistent squawking, the presence of life, free in the trees and air about. I am grateful to be able to speak, not just in written word but to answer a phone call and to talk animatedly with my friend, to talk for extended minutes or even hours about memories, hopes, dreams, to talk to a gas company employee and explain a problem. I am grateful to taste the sweetness of an orange, the comfort of coffee with almond mile, the spices of curry, the mushrooms and peppers and rice of garlic chicken.

So. Despite all absence of desire to cooperate, I have been moved. Even the most wretched, witnessing the black death of everything he once treasured, can feel a glimmer of hope again in gratitude. Ok then.