Nudge Towards Gratitude

I hiked because it was crazy. Correction. I was crazy. Feeling the anxiety of advent.

The silliness of it is astounding.

I’m not 9 months pregnant taking a dirty, long, journey on a donkey.

Instead, me and my crazy are baking last minute cookies in a nice, cozy kitchen. Anxiety. Really?

Back to the hike.

I am not sure why the tidbit of information floated to the top of my craziness cocktail, but in the midst of the tension, I remembered a line I read on this blog. Nester talked about doing only the things that SHE could do.

Ah. Relax into that, won’t you?

Only I could hike my body up a mountain.

Good friends could text reminders to take care of me. No one could do the work of taking care of me.

So I took my feet and walked my legs right up the mountain. It wasn’t far into my own journey on the dirt path that I felt a nudge on my shoulder. A bit awkward, I admit, since I was hiking solo. Still, I turned toward the nudge and saw an amazing view. Cloudy sky with those God rays peeking through. All mist and light and drama right there over the mountains.

I chuckled. The realization of results of being kind to me—the only person I can control in a day, any day, to create kindness toward me—shone through all the grey haze. My useless worry (a bit redundant right?) was in the spotlight.

I may still stub my toe on this lesson. Fumble as I recite my life and this being kind to me comes out like a sentence full of cinnamon, linoleum, and anonymity.

Since I am also the only one who can speak the praises of my days, then let me continue the counting of my fish:

*cookies for breakfast, cookies after lunch, cookies because and cookies with cookies is awesome

*so many laughs in one night, so many friends packed into one home, so much food packed into my stomach!

*money for the gas tank

*the smell of Grandma Rose’s pumpkin bread in the oven

*getting to share the pumpkin bread twice

*money gifted to me to gift to them

*the smell of Maine at my front door



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