gratitude

on things that have made me feel deep gratitude lately

Dear Musers

I began this newsletter a couple of weeks ago, and for all of the reasons that begin to sound like excuses, I am getting back to it today with the sole purpose of pressing send.

I have been 'busy’ lately, like we all have, with wonderful things and it has been easy to let things slip that aren’t essential. My workload has been high as I prepare for everything that needs to be done before I go away for eight weeks and setting up things for when I’m back (retreats, workshops, group coaching, etc). I find it easy to get lost in the busyness and I begin feel overwhelmed with all the things that need to be done. I have a huge post-it note on the wall in front of me that is a spill of my mind onto paper. It’s not pretty (hence no pic here).

But today, I want to focus on gratitude, rather than busyness. When I focus on the 'thank you’ it eases my mind.

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

The following section I wrote on 1 May. It is still relevant, so rather than rewriting, I’m keeping it.

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1 May 2025

Today, which will be last week by the time you read this, I am preparing to celebrate my middle son’s graduation from uni. As I dressed this morning, I recalled all the times over the last twenty-five years that I have been filled with a deep gratitude. There are so many moments as parents that we get to see the outcome of the hard work, the grit, from parenting. The lows, the mediums and the highs of it all.

I recently babysat my great niece and nephew. When I arrived, I was welcomed into their house with a ‘please can you play with me’. My heart melted remembering how grounding young children are and how they remind us to be in the present. I sat on the floor and pushed cars and trucks around trying to remember all their names (that one’s Lincoln, that’s Rusty, that’s the fastest car in the whole world) and swaddled and re-swaddled baby dolls and jumped from cushion and cushion on the floor so I wasn’t hit with the cold lava that the floor had turned into (Don’t worry Aunty Meg, I’ve got super powers to warm you up with hot water). Nothing else mattered for any of us other than what we were doing in that very moment.

I made their dinner under four-year-old Roo’s instruction, helped nearly two-year-old Brontë eat her peas and corn, then it was bath time with all the joy young children find in the small things like sucking on a washer, tipping water over your back, living in the make believe world that baths can provide. As quickly as new activities began, old ones ended.

And then it was the softness of storytime. M joined me just before (Please can Uncle Matt play with me when he comes) which added to the joyful memories. We read a book each, Jetty Jumping by the wonderful Andrea Rowe and Don’t forget by the equally wonderful Jane Godwin. As M read, I remembered that moment of each night when our three were little. The climbing into laps, sucking of thumbs, turning pages back and forth to make sure they found all the delightful things on each page, the calming and closing of each night.

Children remind us to be present and grateful.

Today, as I started this missive, I get to celebrate the twenty-four years of J and his hard work to achieve his double degree in nursing and paramedicine. I don’t take any of this for granted. I am grateful for the work he has done to overcome so many things. School wasn’t fun or easy for him, but he persisted to gain the qualifications that will enable him to do what he loves. I am grateful for the tribe that has held and helped us along the way. We couldn’t be where we are without them. Things like graduations also call us to be present, to reflect and to be grateful.

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Other things that have filled me with gratitude lately are the sunshine on my skin in the morning in my office, beautiful friends who call me out of the blue and love me despite my failings, a house that provides me with shelter and peace, a garden that provides me respite from living in a busy inner city suburb, birdsong in the early morning hours, sunsets, writing festivals and all that comes with welcoming ideas and conversation, free breast screens, good health despite my complex chronic health needs, all of my lovely subscribers here and so much more.

It’s interesting that it’s not necessarily the big things that provide a feeling of gratitude. Often it’s the tiny things.

Some years back, when my life was a bin-fire of death, illness and commitments, my psychologist gently reminded me to turn back to my writing. ‘Writing is how you process the world, Meg,’ she said. So I did. I began journaling again – initially it was purging my anger and sadness, then gradually I found my way through it – and began a routine of gratitude each day.

I used my smallest post-it notes and wrote three things on them then posted them into a jar beside my bed. I called these things of gratitude my golden threads as they were almost invisible to the eye. When I pull one out now from way back then, I’m taken back to a time when things like ‘the sun on my toes’ were enough for me to feel gratitude. It was a task of observation, of looking toward the good rather than the bad.

Photo by Kate Russell on Unsplash

Recently I worked with a client who was in a place of deep despair and wanted to get okay with this. We worked on refocusing her goal to be that of looking to the good rather than obliterating the bad. The relief was quick and visible. Her face began to shine again, the smile was in her eyes. I told her about my golden threads trick and encouraged her to find her golden threads each day.

A challenge for you

If you are feeling a sense of overwhelm or doom, I encourage you to take on the golden thread exercise. Get a jar and some scraps of paper. Each day, find three tiny golden threads of things you are grateful for from the day.

Til next time

x M

PS – I’m hitting send on an email to my list on Tuesday with three new writing retreats this year. If you want to get on the list, fill out this form. I don’t spam or send you email after email, day after day (in fact, I more often than not forget to email anyone except when I have something new to share with you).