This morning, as I do most mornings, I sat down with a cup of coffee and scrolled through Facebook, catching up with friends and family, and at the end of it, I felt quite down. So many negative and gloomy posts. Okay, I understand — these are difficult times — but most of those things I can’t do anything about, except “like” or “hug” or “be angry” — and how did that impact on me?
It intensified my feeling of helplessness. And brought me down. So today I “took a 30 day snooze” from some people on FB — even some long term friends, who constantly bewail the situation. I don’t need that negativity in my head.
I think we need to *work* at keeping positive, to be aware of “downer” posts, to try to avoid ranting about covidiots etc, and following the figures day after day. Ask yourself, How does that serve you? Does it make you feel better or worse? I’m not asking for false cheeriness, or head-in-the-sand, just a bit of balance and maybe some mindfulness. We need to look after ourselves and to work at not being sucked down the plughole of negativity.
There’s a post here on ten things you can do.
So I’m starting my own little personal campaign, starting with a gratitude journal — reflecting on at least one thing a day that makes me smile or feel good, even in a small way. And this morning’s small moment of gratitude was the poached egg I had on toast for breakfast. A friend of mine keeps a few hens in her back yard, and she gave me half a dozen eggs. They’re so fresh and the yolks are a rich dark gold and delicious, and they turn a simple poached egg on toast into an event.
My second moment of gratitude was when I was working in bed on my laptop, and my dog jumped up and snuggled close. She usually curls up on that wrinkled greeenish blanket on the corner of the bed, which is her blanket. But today she was all affectionate and nudged me until I’d patted her for a few minutes, after which she settled down, warm against my leg, to snooze while I got on with my work.
Dogs are wonderful reminders of how to be happy. They live in the moment — they don’t fret about the past, or worry about the future. And small things delight them — a dog biscuit, a pat or a cuddle, a ball, a stick, a bird to be chased out of her garden, a walk — and their days are filled with many small delightful things.
It’s a lesson for us all.