The Attitude of Gratitude Inn

      It feels good, writing here, once again.  

      It meets my need for connecting, expressing, celebrating life, and enjoying community. 

     There has been a prolonged absence of the innkeeper, me. I've had a tumble physically.  I'm not who I once was, mentally, physically. 

       Due to medications, I'm taking for blood pressure issues, my memory, reactions, and vision have been damaged.   I'm trusting with time my body will adapt.  On occasion, I "forget" to take my meds, and I am the old, Pablo, mentally vigorous, with an encyclopedic memory.  

      But only sometimes do I find myself there.  

      Writing at this moment is like pulling up the piano bench and playing away on a sturdy instrument that provided hours of musical reverie while growing up in a less-than-ideal home, my experience as a child and youth

      Then, delightful, calm, relaxing music soothed my mind, that did not know better, a mind that relied upon thinking, not feeling, to comfort me. 

      Thank you, for being faithful and connecting with me.  

      I miss you who live sin the Netherlands, with whom I once knew well.  In the halls of my mind, I remember past energetic and wide-ranging conversations. I value the poetry we created for one another, the moments shared are cherished and especially valued. 

       I am aware each time you drop by. 

             "God gave us memories so that we can 

               remember roses in December." 

                           James Barrie

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       I am not who I was a year ago.  I wasn't much reactive then.  Now, even less so.  But I continue to enjoy life richly. 

       I remain grateful.  

       I am leaving my thanks and will come back to this later.  My bed is calling me.  I'm bushed. 

   1.  I continue to value poetry.   Last week, I celebrated a good friend's birthday. I treated him at a nearby restaurant.    

        From my slender, black carrying bag I pulled out a large book of poetry, reading an entry about old friends, of which he was. 

     How often do we do that, nowadays? 

2. I wrote in the birthday card I had for him, using a fountain pen,  scribing in the Italic script. Each letter I wrote gave my mind and eyes 2-3 second vacations.  

      When I was done, I was more relaxed than before I started.  

I am thankful for calligraphy, flat-edged fountain pens that create thick and thin lines and making time to connect with someone dear. 

3.  I am thankful for sharing this time with you.  Please pray I will resume my old practice of tending to this inn of praise and thankfulness more frequently.