Breaking the ground with gratitude.

 ‘Start writing…’ the blank page but for those grey words (beneath ‘Title’ and ‘Add a subtitle’, in case you didn’t know) directs me but gives me no direction. I sit in the Writing Workshop space and debate what to work on in the couple of hours I’ve booked to be here today. I mentally flit between the same options; a brand new Substack Something (hiya), either or neither of the novels, freelance bits i.e. a newsletter or a social media strategy, a LinkedIn post I didn’t get round to writing on my train home from the office — or (forgive me) going behind the scenes on the old blog and moving content over to here, diligently editing links and scheduling it for the coming week to fill any (many) creative gaps. I hope nobody notices.

…I just remembered I wanted to share a piece I wrote recently for an event, so I’ve copied & pasted that over. Great use of time, G. It’s funny, I feel like I’m building a public portfolio here, while also pitching a tent and burrowing down into the ground beneath it. 

I wish I'd brought an umbrella.

My therapist told me yesterday to start practicing gratitude more consciously; to end each day with a list of things that I’m grateful for, either written down or said aloud to myself ‘or the cat?’ she added with a smile. Oh — I already failed, because I forgot to do it when I fell into bed last night. I told her I remember when that groundbreaking practice came into being, although I know it must have been A Thing for a long time before — when it came into my periphery, let’s say. Everyone was talking about gratitude and positivity. Self-help was suddenly on trend. Podcasts popped up (nice to see you again, Fearne). Bookshops and supermarkets started selling glitter-shedding journals designed to fill with your happy shiny thoughts and scribbled thank you notes to the universe. It was insufferable. I rejected the whole thing much like I did ‘Breaking Bad’ and ‘The Book of Mormon’ when they first came out, because everyone I knew at the time was referencing, singing and spoiling these pop culture phenomenons.

I said all this (a little less colourfully) to my therapist, then mentioned (again) the play I saw recently, and how that affected me. It’s funny how these things align. Fine. I’ll be grateful, and see where it gets me. Here are five things (the recommended daily dosage) I’m grateful for this cold autumnal morning; 

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