The other day was a good day. I spent a productive hour making decisions and moving ‘stuff’ out of the spare front room. I made calls to visit two church folks in the afternoon and went to the supermarket. I added to my Very Grateful list:
13. Waking up in the night and going right back to sleep.
But then, sitting in my Angel Room, sadness came over me. I missed my mom and wondered if she ever felt a similar sadness in the midst of being very grateful. Here I was, writing gratitudes and knowing that it wasn’t just about sleeping through the night, nor that, as the song says, “Life’s just a bowl of cherries.”
I don’t think keeping a ‘sadness list’ is the way to balance this, but I do know that without the sadness, yes, tragedies, the gratitudes hold no power. Writing the gratitudes seems to create a container for the sadnesses.
13. Waking up in the night and going right back to sleep.
But then, sitting in my Angel Room, sadness came over me. I missed my mom and wondered if she ever felt a similar sadness in the midst of being very grateful. Here I was, writing gratitudes and knowing that it wasn’t just about sleeping through the night, nor that, as the song says, “Life’s just a bowl of cherries.”
I don’t think keeping a ‘sadness list’ is the way to balance this, but I do know that without the sadness, yes, tragedies, the gratitudes hold no power. Writing the gratitudes seems to create a container for the sadnesses.
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