We say it all the time, “that’s life.” And it’s always true.
We cannot do anything, be anything, think anything that isn’t part of life.
I am stuck in a cycle of busyness, and constantly reminding myself not to complain. Reminding myself to be grateful for the work, grateful for the fact that I work from home, grateful for the view of my crazy ramshackle garden from my desk.
Tomorrow my father is having his second hip replaced. He is in a lot of pain right now, and I am grateful that the technology exists to fix that for him.
My house is an absolute mess, but I am grateful that I have one. There is painting that needs to be done, broken things that need fixing. There is always that. But I am warm and comfortable and there is tea every morning and very soon, there will be a cozy fire to read in front of every night.
That’s life. My life. And I am scattering seeds of gratitude today, knowing that they will grow into more of the same.
Weeds and flowers and grasses and trees, all mixed up in the same crazy garden.
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