Sometimes there are no words. How many times have I found myself in situations in which some kind of response was invited, called for, and I simply had no words? I have found myself in that space quite a bit lately. People are facing challenges, experiencing life drama, or simply have questions about what’s happening to/around them. They look to me, not necessarily for answers, or for me to fix it, but nonetheless look to me, perhaps hopeful that I’ll have something to say. I often do, but sometimes words simply fail me and all I can do is be with the person empathizing or sympathizing with whatever it is they’re going through. That’s not easy, especially long distance. Still, I try my best.
Tonight I have very few words. I am grateful, as I always am for the basic, foundational things in my life: my children, my siblings and friends; my basic physical and material blessings: safe home, abundance of food, a decent job. I am grateful for the beauty of the natural world I sense around me: the sights, sounds, textures, and smells of the world around me, and for the physical ability to take it all in. Yes, I remain grateful for the many blessings in my life. And yet, sometimes words fail me.
I am approaching 700 days of writing about gratitude. I have no big celebration planned or anything–I wouldn’t have predicted when I first started writing nearly two years ago that I would keep at it this long. There have been many times I thought I would stop. I’m not entirely sure what all keeps me going: stubbornness–that old Chamblee stick-to-it-ness that doesn’t allow us to quit anything, habit–like my daily morning journal writing, or just a desire to keep going, keep sharing. I don’t have it figured out yet, and in the scheme of things I have much bigger fish to fry. I’ll keep going until I stop and decide to do something else. I have a handful of faithful readers, some of whom have read every day since I started. I’m not sure what keeps you reading: stubbornness, habit, or a desire to keep reading? I’m glad you’re here with me, as I’ve said many times, I write for you and I write for me. So as long as we’re both still here, I reckon I’ll keep writing.
May we all be free from suffering and the root of suffering. May we all find happiness and the root of happiness.
