In the book she talk about our armour against vulnerability. One type of shield we use is foreboding joy and the antidote to this is to practise gratitude.
“Joy come to us in moments – ordinary moments. We risk missing out on joy when we get too busy chasing down the extraordinary. … when you talk to people who have survived great losses, it is clear that joy is not a constant. Without exception, all the participants who spoke to me about their losses, and what they missed the most, spoke about ordinary moments. “If I could come downstairs and see my husband sitting at the table and cursing at the newspaper …””
I am grateful for the way my youngest son squeezes me so tightly every time he gives me a cuddle.
I am grateful for the way my eldest son, after someone has looked at his Lego constructions and moved one, moves the Lego back to the exact spot it was in before.
I am grateful for my youngest son pointing out to me this week, as he looked at an alphabet stencil, the Jesus letter. That is, the X, because his brother talks often about the cross that Jesus died on.
I am grateful for the way my 7 year old is now so tall that he can’t fit on my lap for a cuddle.
I am grateful for the laughter that fills my house when my husband tries to trick one of my sons into putting his arm in the air, so that he can tickle them under the arm.
I am grateful for the way that my husband will tell me off for leaving something to soak in the sink and leaving the dishcloth in the water. But he will not take the cloth out or finish washing up that pan.
I am grateful.