~David D. Burns~
the items not on my list that I do for pure joy.
losing my religion.
waking balanced. That does not happen often but when it does, I wallow in it.
no hamster tears or tantrums.
a small amount of justice and the mental image of Marian doing a victory dance in rockin pumps.
hugging the man. He just smelled so damn good. One day, when I ask him if we can play hookie, he will say yes and mean it. That will be a good day.
the little things that I forget to notice when I'm surfing the mood wave. Like Roy's breath no longer smelling of grubs when he licks my nose. Like extra long man hugs. Like finding FREE Podcasts for The Prairie Home Companion. Like an extra 8 minutes of sleep. Like getting to work 15 minutes late and STILL being the first to arrive. All these things add up to overflowing gratitude. Once again I must confess being completely unworthy.
Most days I go about my morning routine in a fog. I get up, I work out (well, sometimes) I say my prayers, I harvest my Farmville crops, kiss the man goodbye and various other odds and ends never really paying attention to anything. Several times a week, the morning fog is penetrated by annoyances. The dog has created a pile in my dining room, the Pixie has forgotten to pack her lunch, I run my pantyhose or the scale was more unkind than usual. These things I tend to notice with regularity.
Occasionally, when I'm very lucky, I wake with no fog. On these mornings I get to notice all the little things. The "God winks" as my mother calls them. I know they are always there and all I have to do is open my brain and receive them, but unfortunately, that morning fog is pretty thick. The good news for me is that, after a few years of this new life, I've learned to notice when I'm fog free and take full advantage. When I do, I am rewarded with a direct line to my gratitude. I am plugged into it and it recharges me. I'm not sure how long it will last but I know, without a doubt, I will ride this particular wave all the way to the beach.