I’ve cultivated unhappiness to the point of silliness. I look at the faults in my life with a magnifying glass, and refuse to look in the mirror and see the wonderful masterpiece that blinks back at me.
I have eyesight! But I concentrate on my nearsightedness. I can hear perfectly, but I forget to be thankful about that. I can smell and taste. I have the full motion of my body, but complain to myself about being clumsy. My body is wonderful, but I am no movie star. Should I be unhappy? Should I dwell on how much I weigh, how old I am, and the black circles under my eyes?
I have a sharp mind, but am absent minded, should I be thankful? I have a talent for music, but can’t dance. I love computers and gadgets, but don’t go out and have fun very often. Should I be thankful?
My dad is very quiet and we aren’t very close. My mother is strong and dominant, and I resent women who are too much like her. But in my father I have an example of self-control, fidelity, compassion and humility that many would wish to have. I admire my mother’s persistence, organization, and a natural leadership. I can only say thank you, God, for my mother and father; I love them.
I have so much to be thankful for. I thank God for having created me just as I am. I thank him for my family, who love me as only family could love. I’m far from rich, but by choice. I have suffered much, but that makes me care more about others who suffer. Just to exist, to breathe, is enough to be joyful about. When will I learn?