Thusday. Thankful

I don't know about you, but sometimes a good cry really is the best thing. This whole week I've been feeling like I need to cry, but it just hasn't happened.

Well, I read this and had a good cry. It's really incredible.

Some samples:

Dear Sugar,

I am grateful for how much I have fucked up.

Before I fucked up, I thought I was a good person. I thought I was noble, and pure, and I thought I did good deeds in the lives of the people I loved. But over the course of years I fucked up. I mistook codependence for partnership. I mistook my craving to be needed and loved for altruism. I mistook the dependence I created in others for strength shared. I mistook my distance and withholding for self-sufficiency.

But I fucked up, and I learned. I am not a good person today. Neither am I a bad person. Instead I am a person who strives to behave like the sort of person I want to be. I try to live as if I am good, knowing that I have failed before. Failure keeps me from the corrosive trap of certainty, and I am grateful for it.

Best wishes to you and yours

I am grateful for the opportunity to be uncomfortable. In the strange and lonely corners of discomfort is where I find those moments of beautiful sadness when life pulsates vibrantly around me and within me, opening my heart to accept the raw and the brutal equivocally with the selfless and kind.

I am thankful for second chances. Deserved or undeserved, but truly given without reservation. Given to me and to others, but most importantly, the one I gave to myself.

I am grateful that my mum died quickly. She had 28 days from her diagnosis, to the end. She had only 28 days to go from a fully functioning human being to being unconscious and unresponsive. She had only a few weeks to experience the physical pain, but also to experience the loss of her independence and pride. Every day I am grateful for the speed at which my mum’s light burned out.