When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.
When we are mourning, this quote is difficult to believe in; it is difficult to imagine its power. But it IS in ourselves, this ability to give thanks. Even when we don’t feel we have any strength left to be thankful for, we do. We are still here. That’s strength.
Even when we can’t find “joy of living,” it’s there, waiting for us to notice it.
When Kent first died, hell, who am I kidding? I still feel this way sometimes–I felt guilty for smiling or laughing. But if we can’t stop and breathe in the sun after days and days of rain, we aren’t going to notice any other kind of light either.
The other day, a friend said, “But the world is so sad. What can we do?”
Of course the world is sad. The only time life is a continual ball of pleasure is on T.V.
We are too addicted to happiness.
As I writer, I have an email folder labeled, “rejections.” I love this folder. This folder is full of negative responses, sure. But it is also full of “I DID THAT. I WROTE THAT. I SENT THAT OUT INTO THE WORLD.”
Light and joy aren’t going to come looking for us. They are already out there. We just have to see them; we have to want to see them. I’m not saying we put on rose colored glasses or start humming positive affirmation songs. I’m just saying that light is always there even when we won’t see it.
So when we do laugh at a baby’s toes or smile at the shadows across the moon, we are remembering the light.