Gratitude

Crawling out of bed in my cotton nightgown, I search for my grey sweatpants and the matching zip-up to wear over it as I make my coffee. The mornings are still sunny, but they’re starting to feel a bit colder than they did a month ago. The tree they planted in front of my window three years ago has sprouted so many new leaves and branches. They cast playful shapes and shadows on my wall. To be honest, I thought I’d be out of here by the time this tree had grown so much. But as I listen to Bossa Nova on the speaker and glance around the place, I’m kinda glad I’m still here. I’m exactly where I need to be right now.

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I've been trying to weave gratitude into every moment of my day. The second I feel myself slipping into negative thoughts, or when a memory from the past blindsides me — I take a deep breath, ground myself in the now, and list a few things I’m thankful for. It’s a habit I’m nurturing, though sometimes it feels as bitterly annoying as when people used to tell me to smile more as a kid (even now, at 25, the occasional old man on the street still reminds me).

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There are moments when shifting my attention away from anguish and pain feels like the perfect escape. What you focus on expands, after all. But sometimes, I let the feeling linger a bit longer, inviting it in for a quiet conversation. I ask why it’s here, why now? Is there something I’m overlooking, something so urgent that it has taken shape as these unwelcome, persistent thoughts? Sometimes, it’s not about brushing the pain aside but understanding what it’s trying to tell me, what lies beneath its surface, demanding acknowledgment. Usually, after enough time digging, I find something. A prompt, let’s say. It is never the final answer, but I think that’s not what I’m searching for usually. Answers come on their own. Sometimes they come in the form of awkward encounters with people you thought you’d never interact with. Full circle moments. Signs from the universe. A message hidden behind a cryptic image.

After a bit of entertaining and breaking down these negative thoughts, I’m able to go back to the deep breaths and grounding practices and the journaling and the silent walks.

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As much as I enjoy the summer—my bike rides, the park, sweaty walks to get ice cream, and nights out with friends in mini skirts and tank tops—I’m looking forward to Autumn. I think my essence is captured best in this season. Maybe it’s something only I feel, but I sense my clothing style, lifestyle, interests, preferred colour palette, and music taste all seem to thrive beautifully when the temperature drops and crunchy leaves take over the sidewalks. Being South American, I never really experienced the orange and red landscapes until I was 17. I remember my first year in Canada; I would mimic all the outfits I’d seen on Tumblr as a teenager: tights, knee-high socks, mini skirts, boots, cozy sweaters, big scarves, mauve lipstick, beanies, fingerless gloves. It’s honestly adorable as I look back. With my 8th anniversary in this country just 15 days away, I feel a cocktail of emotions in my stomach, but I’m happy and thankful for where I am now in life. I’ll relish gratitude as much as I can. I’ll appreciate even the toughest days, months, and years this journey has cost me. Even far away from home. Away from the warmth of my culture, my mom’s arms, my brother’s laughter, my grandma’s Mountain Rose tree…

These past 8 years have turned me into the woman I am, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. I wouldn’t change a thing.

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