Gratitude

Jun 26, 2023

In my attempt to re-connect with myself, I’ve spent quite a whole lot of time digging up my past and worrying over my future. While indulging in both is a crucial requirement for connecting with your roots, neither the past, nor the future remain in anyone’s control. So, in order to feel light, I decided to write about Gratitude - one of the prompts from my friends’ biweekly writing cohort. Other than being grateful for having the basic necessities of life, I’ve come up with the following (in no particular order):

I'm grateful for a heart that feels and a mind that thinks.

I'm grateful for a body that keeps forgiving me and still nourishes me every time I come back to it.

I'm grateful for finding my voice. Finding my voice is finding me.

I'm grateful for my high cheek bones and my beautiful brown skin - I got them both from my mom. I grew up despising my appearance because the society I grew up in equated beauty with fair skin. I always wanted my dad's lighter skin. But not anymore. I love my sultry silky brown.

I'm grateful for second chances at life.

I'm grateful I can express myself through my writings when many have drowned themselves in silence.

I'm grateful for finally arriving at a place in my life where I can quit and start anew. It's a privilege I'm grateful for.

I'm grateful for my stubborn, strong headed, defiant children who were born with a mission to cut me down to size. I cannot judge fellow parents anymore - including my own.

I’m grateful for my brave rescues. My warrior princesses have taught me that we can overcome trauma and move forward - all we need is our naps, snuggles and treats.

I'm a child of the 80s. I'm grateful for being born during an era where tolerance was the norm in my land, not an exception. As my writing mentor-coach Natasha says, “We're more alike than we're made to believe.”

I'm grateful to be able to live in a place where I can drive alone in the middle of the night and return home safe to my family.

I'm grateful for being able to spend quality time with my dad before he left us for the after world.

I'm grateful for my resilience and optimism. Again, I inherited both from my mom.

I'm grateful for being able to love people truly unconditionally.

I'm grateful for the flaming Gulmohar trees lining up the streets of Abu Dhabi this season. They encourage me to flaunt my own brightly colored yellow, green and pink cotton shirts to face this harsh summer with beauty and grace.

I'm grateful for my female friends who, despite being way different than me have always stood by me. It is during my darkest of times that I've found more than one woman extend her hand and heart out to me as if to say, “I've been there. I'm not letting you do this alone.” I'm grateful for my sisterhood.

I'm grateful for the writing workshops I've attended. I discovered that one can meet their soul mates in strangers. I had complete strangers cry over my essays as I cried reading them. “We are all crying for ourselves,” Natasha whispers gently.

There's nothing more pure than humans shedding tears of solidarity with those you don’t even know.

Perhaps this was God's way of showing that we really are more alike than we're different. I’m grateful for being witness to the power of collective healing.