Why Gratitude will turn your life around
It's just gone noon on Thursday.
I'm squinting through the front window into the February sun. After 2 blizzards and 80cm of snow in 4 days, it's graced us with its presence for the last 4 days now.
The longest of our icicles are 2ft, and even though the sun's now higher than it was a month ago, today they aren't dripping. Can't be higher than -15C, and occasional gusts are grabbing millions of tiny ice dervishes from the neighbours's rooves, demanding they perform for the sun on an airborne dance floor.
These last two nights I have finally slept decently … after four in which I got ... maybe two hours of sleep per night. The annual cold has come and thankfully gone. Was making ungodly shrieks at regular intervals, while powering through easily 2 boxes of tissues.
To have mercy on my wife, I decamped to the spare bedroom, thereupon propping myself up with blankets and pillows in whatever formation would allow me minimal comfort.
But these last 2 nights, I have hit the pillow, inhaled deeply of the usual N2/O2 gas mix, and thanked God that I could.
Gratitude is the most underrated commodity going.
I'm 95% recovered already. Meanwhile a church friend across town is ensconced at home in a battle with the Big C. Her hair is slowly growing back, but she ain't out of the woods yet. Then not 3 days ago, I read an old school friend's post on Facebook. She and I go back to Year 2 in primary school. She's in Newfoundland, and just lost her husband the day before Valentine's. So while I'm typing here, and comparatively free to pick and choose my thoughts ... she's probably struggling to just put one foot in front of the other.
Worst part of a cold?
The boredom.
The physical discomfort won't allow you to sleep, but neither will it grant you any mental clarity with which to focus on a worthy task.
Multiple times over my four virus-infested days, I fired up Substack in desperation for some distraction. I've years ago weaned myself off Facebook and X, but now I'm realizing Substack may be the latest wagon I've fallen off.
The downside of Substack is, There are a lot of people screaming. Bad news everywhere. The sky is falling, doncha know?
The upside is, They're not screaming as loudly as elsewhere, and they (generally) do it more courteously. There are crass curmudgeons around, but not too many of them, and they haven't obtained their Certified Troll licences yet.
But of screaming, there is still plenty, usually with reason and justification behind it.
And I find it very possible to doom-scroll, forgetting entirely what I should be doing, and letting my mood drift from Contentment and Gratitude … to Fear and Alarm.
Gratitude. There's that word again.
I am 62 years old, happily married for 34 years to a marvellous woman, who's given me 3 wonderful children.
OK, God took away one of them, and that hole in our hearts will never heal. But the other two, we got to keep and raise awhile. My octagenarian mum, my sister and brother and children are nearby.
We have a roof over our heads, currently with lots of those tiny ice dervishes and icicles, sparkling in the sun. There's a fridge and freezer downstairs, not empty. Other applicances too. OK, the microwave just packed up, but that's a solveable problem, and not even urgent.
My physical body, cold notwithstanding, works frighteningly well for me, most of the time. The Crohn's Disease that once was, is no more. I am on zero prescription medications - ZERO. Don't know too many 60-somethings who can say that. I go biking, skiing, iron-pumping, kayaking on the river, sometimes with my wife, always with joy.
We are part of a local church community, in which we've made acquaintance with some extraordinary people. They challenge me. They let me play my bass onstage, and even sing occasionally.
I am in a network of Christian men who are, quite simply, the most incredible men I’ve ever met. Been through hell, some of ‘em more than once. Brutally honest with themselves and with each other. They keep me sharp and focused.
And YOU … have subscribed to my NerdLetter. Which gives me cause to stay faithful. sit down at this here keyboard regularly, and ask myself … What do I think? What do I really think? What do those folks out there need, that I can give?
I'm not finished, mind. Those are just the words that fell off the keyboard. If I kept digging, we'd be here til the shadows are long on the snowbank.
What about you?
Oh, sure, I don't doubt you can name some horrible things about your life that you'd happily live without. But what about the good stuff?
Don't ever let a day go by without looking up and asking The Boss ... How did I get so lucky? How did I get THIS lucky? And there's more coming? You don't say!
Leave the news outside. It'll still be there in the morning, if you really need it. Come on inside, put your feet up in front of the fire, and count your many blessings (name them one by one, as the olde hymn goes).
Gratitude makes a massive difference, and is far more practically relevant to your life that any of the scary stuff is.
Stay grateful. Stay thankful.