Gratitude, or Whatever

The idea of a gratitude journal is so straightforwardly nice. List the things that make you happy. List your deepest thanks for all the coffees you had today. A transcendent and gracious act, and if you do it, you are better than everyone. You are like an angel.

I am grateful for: this guy.

It sounds a bit too direct, I think. A "gratitude journal" sounds like something a weird older relative would make you do, aged seven on a Sunday when you really, really would rather be evolving your Eevee into an Espeon. I guess maybe I'd prefer a general scrapbook or journal. One that was just like any other, except that you knew, in your own gorgeous, big mind, that it was for recording all that good stuff around you. It's a secret, and that makes anything better.

Another point is that I am a hater, and I value hating. Being thankful and enjoying stuff can certainly be fun, but babes, I need my rage. I need my fresh, searing irritation and bitter resentment. And you know, all the things between that and pure, idyllic, heavenly love and admiration and joy. Because sometimes all the great things make the bad things seem that much more unfair. We need the whole bundle. A dog caused very hot coffee to be spilled on me yesterday. And I do not forgive that dog. 

Ok fine, I forgive the dog.

Blossoms are allowed to flower in the USA.

Anyway, I suppose this is my gratitude journal, for right now. I am grateful for the ability to feel the whole steaming circus of emotions. I am especially grateful to have learned that I can be really mad for a second (e.g. aforementioned dog hot coffee incident) and then just get over it (after my aunt puts my jumper, now moist with coffee, in the wash). I am grateful for the pretty white blossoms that show up everywhere in spring, a unifying feature of all sorts of places - and one that I have used to decorate this post. Wherever you go (or at least... in many places) you will be comforted by the blossom. It belongs with you, and you belong with it. The world is with you, y'know? Familiar things remain.

I am grateful for the glimpses of what I would call my "true" look - glumpy type woman, slouchy jumper, hair up. I like the times I see myself in the mirror and think, "yeah......... that's so me". That's the platonic ideal of me. Very satisfying.

Glump woman.

Lastly, I am grateful for sleep, which I will do now.

                                                                                                 (Goodnight)

One Bag

I've been thinking a lot about hoarding lately. Both the actual serious medical condition, and more broadly the way we collect and keep so many objects in our lives. I've always been extremely interested in stuff like the (briefly very popular, but seemingly a bit less so these days) online minimalism movement. I love looking at a photo of someone's single 40L bag that they take travelling with them. I love thinking, "what if everything I own could fit into a bag like that?" and then never actually remotely reaching such a goal.

What if I only had this tote bag? Wow.

I always think there'd be such an immense freedom in that. Just me and my Big Bag. A few years ago I bought a desktop computer. And I got a yellow desk to put my monitor on. And then I got a beautiful Rode Procaster microphone and arm from a very generous friend (thank you Hayley!). And so now there's this extra corner of my room that belongs to me. An immobile beast. I love it, and I love playing games on it, and I often use it to stream - which has earned me at least $20, if not more ;-)

But still, often I think, ok, what if I got rid of that stuff? That thing will not, unfortunately, fit in my backpack.

Digital hoarding, too, is something I'm interested by. Not least because I am always running the risk of filling up my free Google Photos storage. And nothing in this world could ever make me pay for more of it. But what am I to do with all my beautiful photos and videos? Well, lately I've been making short videos with my collected footage and posting them on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube, but this practice does in fact make it so that I record a lot more videos than I otherwise would. It's very satisfying though, and I get to enjoy deleting all the footage when I'm done. Perfect.

It's easy, of course, to keep a million digital files, because they essentially take up no space. But I try to stay in the habit of constantly pruning them. I love to delete. I love to kill. Pictures are so amazing, because they help you to save memories, but in some cases I really only need what's in my head.

Still, better to keep endless digital clutter than physical. I look at my chunky black backpack wistfully. I think it's a 40L bag. It's great for travelling, and I can usually easily fit everything I need in there. But everything I own? Not even close. Maybe one day.

The painting I'm looking at here is 'Hof zwischen Großstadthäusern'
(Courtyard between City Housing), by Erich Miller-Hauenfels. In Vienna's Leopold Museum.