I love the weeks leading up to a big vacation almost as much as the trip itself. Like a child counting down the days to Christmas, my excitement builds exponentially as I squirrel away clothes, bottles of sunscreen, and special snacks. My suitcase in the corner of our bedroom is a constant, quiet reminder of what’s to come. Why should joy be limited only to the seven days we’ll spend away? This isn’t just any trip to the grocery store for Vegenaise – it’s the Vegenaise we’re going to use on vacation.
I’ve been keeping a gratitude journal. Before I get under the covers, hair tied up in a messy bun and bare face slathered with a thin layer of coconut oil, I open my little black and white journal to a new blank page and scribble down what I’m grateful for in that moment. On the whole, the scribbles are pretty ordinary – “79 cent avocados from Aldi” reads one entry, “the robin that let me get close enough to take his picture“. Even my “big” entries are still pretty…well, small.
At first, it felt funny documenting these little occurrences, as though my feelings of gratitude had to be “saved up” for monumental events or life-changing news. But the more I think about it, I lead a pretty quiet life. When you work in a cubicle and your day more or less revolves around what you’re going to make for dinner, monumental events don’t come around that often. When it comes down to it, maybe life is just a collection of little happies that are worth their own attention and appreciation.
Curtis and I are spending the week at the Delaware seashore, and I feel like this philosophy has been amplified for me in just the few days we’ve enjoyed here already. I’m grateful for so many things big and small – being able to ride my bike to the produce stand down the road and try the first tomatoes of summer. Listening to frogs chatter in the pond near the house after the sun goes down. Going for long walks, chatting, and falling in love over and over again with the man who, in thirteen months, is going to be my husband.
My gratitude journal, and my heart, overflow.