GRATITUDE

Time and again, I am struck by an overriding thought upon waking: there is no perfect life. It is enough to calm my frazzled  brain as I steady myself, ready to engage the day ahead.  A thought that is likely less pervasive in youth.  Consumed with endless doing.  The landscape at large shifts as time passes and years accumulate.

So much is written about how to age well.  The need to pay attention to mental and physical health; to sustain and nurture meaningful relationships; to sustain and nurture a sense of personal meaning and purpose.  All this makes sense, of course. But when a moment of madness strikes – a moment when an inner voice is stifled by random feelings of frustration and ineptitude – it is difficult to feel good in the moment.  About anything, least of all yourself. 

Does this sound like rambling?  Well, that’s what a moment of madness feels like.  The fact that I can sit long enough to write about how that feels, is something.  It is a kind of reassurance.  A moment of grace that allows for a reset.  That allows for the measured intake of breath – pulling in unwieldly distortions. And to breathe out – ideally with greater ease. For me, it is a time to sit and wait patiently. For inspiration.  For clarity.

 

Gratitude

 

Not always within reach

and so not readily grasped

is that one thing

most needed

to calm that awful sense

of not being good enough

in the eyes of a world

in which you strive to be worthy

 

it is that one thing

that merges me to you

with dignity and grace

 

giving thanks

to the powers that be

stills the urge to judge

as being more than

as being less than

 

it is that one thing needed most

to find stillness within

 

cbienko