Gratitude
A few years ago, I started a gratitude journal. Amid all of the painful crazy that was my mom's last few years, I needed a way to reconnect, to ground myself, to not lose sight of those things that are my reason for being, my saving grace. A couple of friends of mine had started similar journals, and I thought it would be a good thing for me. In the quiet of the season, as the leaves make their way to the ground, and the harvest fruits ripen, I'm taking a moment to remind myself of those things that matter most.
A kick-ass husband, who is my rock when times are rough, my best friend to celebrate with when times are joyful. He is a compassionate, warm human being who always does his best for others.
My amazing, curious, affectionate son. He has made me infinitely more patient, more wise, more mama bear than I ever could have envisioned for myself.
My family. We've walked many miles together and I have never been more grateful for the fact that I was born into this family, especially since I've seen that not all families operate with so much unconditional love, compassion, and support. I can't articulate what they mean to me. I come from a long line of strong Latin women, and the fact that we can express ourselves without fear, cry without shame, and reach out to one another with open hearts is a testament to our heritage.
My comadres. Very similar to the English word comrade, but different. These are my soul sisters, women that are not my birth sisters, but are just as close to my heart. They've cried with me in times of grief, protected me in times of weakness, laughed with me until our faces hurt. I love our seasonal parties, our ladies' teas, our B-movie nights, our night's out in SF. You're probably the only ones who read this blog, so here's to you!
My kitties. Warm by night and spunky by day, they're old souls.
Life in general. Leisurely 7am breakfasts with my son, volunteering to help catalog the new library at St. B, the Women's Retreat a few weekends ago and the healing that took place there, weekly walks and trips to the Farmer's Market, and cultivating some great relationships in my life--what more can I say? I'm grateful.
A kick-ass husband, who is my rock when times are rough, my best friend to celebrate with when times are joyful. He is a compassionate, warm human being who always does his best for others.
My amazing, curious, affectionate son. He has made me infinitely more patient, more wise, more mama bear than I ever could have envisioned for myself.
My family. We've walked many miles together and I have never been more grateful for the fact that I was born into this family, especially since I've seen that not all families operate with so much unconditional love, compassion, and support. I can't articulate what they mean to me. I come from a long line of strong Latin women, and the fact that we can express ourselves without fear, cry without shame, and reach out to one another with open hearts is a testament to our heritage.
My comadres. Very similar to the English word comrade, but different. These are my soul sisters, women that are not my birth sisters, but are just as close to my heart. They've cried with me in times of grief, protected me in times of weakness, laughed with me until our faces hurt. I love our seasonal parties, our ladies' teas, our B-movie nights, our night's out in SF. You're probably the only ones who read this blog, so here's to you!
My kitties. Warm by night and spunky by day, they're old souls.
Life in general. Leisurely 7am breakfasts with my son, volunteering to help catalog the new library at St. B, the Women's Retreat a few weekends ago and the healing that took place there, weekly walks and trips to the Farmer's Market, and cultivating some great relationships in my life--what more can I say? I'm grateful.
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