Recently I went to a presentation billed as “Silencing the Inner Critic.”  It was very disappointing, and the speaker was very irritating.  She teaches all-day workshops on creativity, and her hour-long talk was nothing but an outline of those workshops. It was full of enthusiasm, vivacity and charm, but very little matter.  As you can tell, she certainly didn’t silence my inner critic.

image: pathseekerslifecoaching.com

But there’s always a nugget or two to carry away from these things.  Nugget #1 was my resolution to resume daily, first-thing-in-the-morning writing in my notebook.  And #2 was the gratitude journal.

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I’ve kept a notebook for many years, a cheap spiral bound thing, badly battered by the time it is full.  Once I tried keeping several – green for gardening plans, blue for my diary, red for writing projects.  That was a silly, if elegant scheme – I can’t keep track of three notebooks – and I soon abandoned it. Now my notebook is always red, because I would like to be read. (We seldom-published writers must have our amusement.) My current notebook, a lovely fat one, is extra-special because it was a Christmas gift from Amanda. It was the first time she gave Christmas gifts, and I was delighted by her empathetic selections (Joe got a foam rubber football.)

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My notebook holds my diary, my free-writing click, first drafts of fiction and blogs, and many shopping and to-do lists.  Sometimes in my diary I describe or celebrate a special day, but more often it’s where I focus on my troubles and try to come to terms with them.  Sometimes it’s therapy. Sometimes it’s whining.

image:pal.ua.edu

I had heard the term “gratitude journal,” but it never grabbed me.  Now I thought I’d give it a try.  And I have been surprised at the effect. Here are samples, one from my normal diary, one from my new gratitude journal:

May 16. Friday.  Tonight is Amanda’s Honors Chorus Concert.  Yesterday I had a gloomy, out-of-sorts day followed by a night of poor sleep due to an upset stomach. Boy, this is writing that cries out for me to stop, and is also putting me to sleep.  My life is irksome. I stay irked.  I think I look for things to irk me.  I am falling asleep.     

May 19. Monday. Gratitude: I am thankful that yesterday I could talk with Joe about my misery in this hard time with Amanda.  Only he understands what is happening here; only he need know.  And yesterday he gently reminded me what Dr. Lynne said about temporarily letting go of the demands we would normally make as parents.  That makes it easier for me to try and let go of my demands without feeling I’m being lazy, irresponsible, without feeling the people looking over my shoulder saying I’m a lousy parent.
    I’m grateful that he wants so much for this trip to NY to be what I’m hoping for, and that we are going to NY and staying in Chinatown.

image: wikipedia.org

I am grateful – almost breathless with excitement – that I’m driving to Orlando Thursday to meet Sue and Anne, staying in a luxury hotel.  I think we’ll drive back to Gainesville on back roads.
    I am grateful that yesterday Amanda played in the pool with me – a little hostile, a little aggressive, but still we played.
    I am grateful that I took away two precious nuggets from the empty talk yesterday at WAG – the gratitude journal, and the renewal of daily writing, which has disappeared in the chaos and grief.  I do indeed, have indeed, focused on my misery instead of my joy, and am/was becoming a negative gloomy glump.  Maybe there was something to Dad’s reply to “How are you?” “Oh, I’m always well.” He did live to 98, after all.

Always well: Dad at 90

    I am happy that I planted my three gaillardia yesterday, maybe rescued (I hope) the one poorly-planted cleome, THAT A MONARCH BUTTERFLY finally came to my thriving milkweed, and that I have three more milkweeds to plant.  Soon, if the monarchs come, I will have six ugly naked stalks.  And maybe the ugly nameless plant Bill gave me, with its tubular salmon-colored flowers, will bring me a humming bird.
          

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    I am grateful that I am making progress with singing.  An die Musik – itself a song of gratitude and perfectly tailored to my situation, about the escape, comfort, release, shelter of music – is coming along.  Two techniques – head singing and pushing out my diaphragm through a whole phrase – should solve my range and breathing problems. Though I have trouble executing both of them.  Still, my range in warm-ups is already wider than it was – down to Bflat below low C, and up to high E.  These music lessons are my salvation.  Indeed I have many salvations.
    I am grateful that I can talk to Joe, and that he is helping me ease back on Amanda by taking on some of the reminding himself.
    I am grateful that I have this morning time.  The quiet sleep-breathing of Trisket behind my chair – she always wants to be where I am.
   
    I am late to the party. I googled gratitude journal, and of course I found a long list of links. I could read 8 tips for starting one, or take 11 steps to a powerful one. Berkeley presented research. Oprah weighed in. I found ads for beautiful little notebooks titled Gratitude, prices ranging from $9.99 to $156 for used(!) Amazon offers free two-day shipping if you subscribe to Amazon prime. You can also buy the “Bargain Attitude Changer. The #1 gratitude journal app for over five years. Use it for at least three weeks and your life will never be the same again. See demo.”                

available used for $156.19 image:amazon.com

    I think I will pass.  I’m perfectly content with my red spiral notebook from the dollar store. It makes a big difference to begin my day rejoicing, and it helps me notice small delights throughout the day. I am grateful for my gratitude journal.