F**k Gratitude

The lockdown is loosening up or is it? Information is unclear – am I in a grey zone or a red zone – maps are no help but it is clear that the risk levels haven’t gone down because the numbers going down – or are they. More contagious strains are being flown in to make sure the case loads remains steady. Big Box stores are given tax breaks while smaller merchants are being given eviction notices. Let’s face it take out bacon & eggs is not worth the effort. The travel mug industry needs a bail out.

I do have a lot to be grateful for – actually I’m not fond of the self-help notion of gratitude. You know being told to make of the things you are grateful for if you are feeling down or stressed. It is usually done begrudgingly  – oh great the stress of making another fucking list 🙂 I’m grateful that I can walk, I can breathe etc. 

It becomes another way of berating oneself for not being satisfied & fulfilled by the obvious. One is not not only unhappy, they are now guilted for not taking joy in each breath. I express gratitude for being able to see by actually looking a things. Each photo I take is gratitude, I share it by sending those pictures to friends – I’d rather send a picture than tell them to make a gratitude list.

I prefer a mental bliss list – things that bring me bliss. This winter my indoor orange tree had a morning glory vine wrapped around it, which has give me delicate morning glory blossoms every couple of weeks. Seeing a certain someone walking up to my house is joy. Chopin’s Scherzos & Ballades are sheer bliss. I make sure there a moment of bliss every day – moments that are easy to find without being forced or guilted into searching for them. 

Increase your bliss & gratitude will flourish.

Tired In My Skin

I start this day

after a good night’s sleep

tired

tired of going through the motions

tired of

changing the motions

yet getting the same results

the endlessness of it all

is boring

it is no longer a challenge

to resist the temptation

to go back to bed

<>

my skin is tired

of holding my body together

of holding everything in

my bones are tired

of holding everything up

joints find movement tedious

eyes see the same old same old

the spirit is weary of

the the search for purpose

the search for fulfillment

when going back to bed

is so alluring

more alluring

than moving in any direction

<>

not that I’ve been everywhere

not that I don’t dream

of the end to this lockdown

an end to the weaponization of breath

but to dream

I have to go back to bed

breath deep 

drift off

get a good night’s sleep

wake up

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