Tired of eating the same food. Tired of sitting at home. Sad I’ve to celebrate my birthday at home again. Tired of not being able to travel.
Counting what we don’t have is the easiest way to feel bad.
Except it helps no one. Not certainly us.
What if we felt grateful for food amidst the uncertain economy? The privilege of being home in the middle of a pandemic? Glad that we have the family that cares for us with or without birthday?
Gratitude isn’t just mumbo jumbo. It is a way of life. An art of looking for butter in adulterated milk.
How will we ever be able to enjoy more, if what we have is never enough?