An exercise in gratitude

It's 1:30 AM and I've just been on the balcony to see the snow. 

I am grateful that my child is asleep peacefully. 

I am grateful that my dad texted me to tell me it's snowing. 

I am grateful I have windows with a view. 

I am grateful for the mattress we received 2 years and a half ago, which was never used in a baby crib but  that is currently on the cold balcony floor, so I could be there comfortably a few minutes ago. 

I am grateful for the fluffy Xmas socks I am wearing, which were a Secret Santa present. 

I am grateful for everything else I received in my bag from my Secret Santa, because this girl really saw me. 

I am grateful that I have an extra blanket which I wrapped myself in to go to the balcony. I love winter but I hate being cold. Too many years of being cold without a choice...

I am grateful that I can afford to heat my house properly and I can also afford to help my dad heat his. 

I am grateful that my dad is feeling better. 

I am grateful for the love he has for my kid.

I am grateful that her dad was here for Christmas and he helped me a lot. 

I am grateful that the two of us were ok being together after all this time, and it didn't feel unnatural or forcibly nice. 

I am grateful for all the presents my daughter received. 

I am grateful for the first fully peaceful Christmas I had in a million years. No, really? Did I ever have a truly peaceful holiday before this?

I am grateful for my friends, all of them. Even the ones that were lost along the way. 

I am grateful for all the crap I've been through because it taught me what to be grateful for. 

I am grateful for not wanting a birthday present anymore. Every year, despite my moral principles saying I shouldn't want a material present, I felt slightly offended when I didn't get one. This year, as I was wrapping presents for my dad and Ileana's dad and for Ileana, I realised I couldn't care less whether I got anything or not. I actually considered buying something I wanted for myself, and wrapping it, too. It's the magic that counts, right? But I didn't. I didn't wrap them, but I did buy lovely scented shower gels, for pampering. 

I am grateful I received a bunch of roses from my dad and milk chocolate and coffee from my daughter's dad. Which he unceremoniously gave me on Christmas Eve and I wrapped myself to put in Santa's bursting bag. 

I am grateful for Santa Claus. I am grateful for my plastic Christmas Tree. 

I am grateful for fairy tales. 

I am grateful for love. 

I am grateful for all the people that raised me and who raised my dad and Ileana's dad. They did their best. Many of them were mentioned in anecdotes on Christmas day and I felt like they were there, their good memories only. I lit a candle for them after Christmas dinner, when I was doing the dishes. Especially for the women. I needed them close. I want them to know we are going to be fine, Ileana and I. And I just lit another one now. Maybe this is what not being alone feels like. 

I am grateful for being able to feel grateful. It has been an extraordinarily difficult journey. 

I had so much to say after Christmas. I was bursting with this emotion. And then I lost my voice, literally lost my voice. I have a cold or something. And you know what, I didn't need it. I've been stuck indoors for 3 days with my kid, because of this cold and the horrible icy rainy weather, which mercifully changed to snow this evening. Only went out for a couple of hours yesterday to get some medicine and food. I didn't need my loud voice to buy stuff, the world adapted. I did not need my loud voice to look after my kid. I barely spoke any words to her these past few days, and yet I feel like we've been in constant communication. Let that be a lesson, too.

I am grateful for this lesson, too. 

Be quiet. Be grateful. Be. 

A layperson's understanding of trauma - for the rationally inclined (part 1)

 Part 1 

From a YouTube interview with Tim Ferris and Gabor Mate - Trauma is not your parents' alcoholism - that is a traumatic experience- , it is what happens inside of you.

În termeni logici și medicali - când ajungi la spital cu o săgeată în coaste, trauma, pentru medicii care încearcă să îți salveze viața, nu este săgeata. Trauma este gaura din pieptul tău. Ok, săgeata este evidentă. o vede toată lumea. Trebuie scoasă de acolo. Dar dacă doar îndepărtezi obiectul care rănește, rana nu se vindecă miraculos. Ba, mai rău, dacă scoți săgeata din coaste înainte să te afli într-un mediu care să îți permită vindecarea, îți faci mai mult rău. Pentru noi, ăștia obsedați de cunoaștere, e un lucru bine știut că nu trebuie să scoți obiectul din rană până nu ajungi la spital pentru că riști să sângerezi mai rău și să mori. 

Deci, trauma de vindecat e gaura din piept, nu săgeata. Ții minte, da? Până data viitoare?

Part 2 

The same gene that appears to be responsible for the most aggressive behaviours, was also discovered in the most peaceful individuals. It is actually the gene for sensitivity, not for aggression. To be discussed. 

Part 3  

Has your addiction ever served you? Then do not judge it. Thank it for its service and send it swiftly away. - to be discussed

And my personal exploration - am I an empath? Am I at least empathetic? I used to think so, but not so much anymore. Mai degrabă simt că, dacă sunt în starea potrivită, pot înțelege ce simte cineva, dar mă simt complet incapabilă să interacționez cu durerea altcuiva. Sau cu bucuria lor.