Is it really that easy, just turn on the gratitude switch and the limitless possibilities of a life well lived supplants this relentless, gnawing anger and frustration that has cast it’s web over me the last few constricting days, years?  Strolling the Mediterranean inspired streets of Naples Florida, transformed from pedestrian thoroughfare to art show, conjures up a restless discontent deep within me. All that I don’t have and all that I haven’t accomplished rushing to the surface, just out of reach, just over there. Like the song from West Side Story where Tony sings about this longing, “it’s only just out of reach, down the block, on a beach, under a tree…I got a feeling there’s a miracle due, gonna come true, coming to me!”

My self limiting beliefs and negative, down trodden thought process is as ingrained as the knots in our Piney wood kitchen floor, the wide planks of blond pine, streaked with darkness.  I guess I should be writing heartwarming little publishable stories about heartwarming little topics, but all that floods my soul again this morning is hopelessness and helplessness.  Having survived one of the most horrific weeks, in an unlovable, volatile situation, I am left drained, and lost, having gone deeper into the dark woods.  I have no open spirit to write, and I’m doing so only with the hope that putting pen to the page may offer some release. Sunny southwest Florida has hidden its soul too this morning, as the grayness has settled over paradise, adding to the darkness.  Just when you need the sun to shine, in a state where the golden white of sunlight appears more often than not, this morning I am left with only the dimmest of light.  I reach for the homemade seashell lamp that’s perched atop the breakfast nook table, I simply turn the switch and voila, let there be light.  Oh that the sun would burst forth and bath me in rays that warm both body and soul. But for now, as I sit in the breakfast nook gazing out at the nothingness, writing my pain has not eased it.  Relationships are complicated and recent advice to just “let it go”, my anger and resentment that is, pushes me deeper into myself, deeper into the dark woods, filled with creatures that I have to defend myself against.  Hunting season or self defense?  Armed and ready, with words that pierce, and heal.  I call myself a writer, heal thy self.

Turning on the kitchen lamp has poured light onto my writing.  Is the answer to my day, my life, as simple as turning on the gratitude switch?

Epilogue:

Many good days have dawned after the darkness, and gratitude really has been the key enabling me to begin the journey to wholeness and healing. Gratitude trickles in little by little, not with a rush like Niagara Falls, but with more subtlety like a tiny tributary that winds it’s way through my mind and heart, and peace I find on the grassy banks, simply by turning on the gratitude switch.  Thank you Lord.