(molly)

i’m thankful that because it’s snowing, i feel okay about spending the first few hours of my morning in bed watching “jane the virgin.” i’m thankful for the fact that while the show feels indulgently dramatic, there are intelligent elements that mean binging it doesn’t leave me with that queasy feeling like i wasted time. i’m thankful for the way michael’s character reminds me of an old boyfriend who was a positive part of my life. i’m thankful for the way michael’s character reminds me that nice doesn’t mean boring.

i’m thankful that i spent an extra ten minutes, after breakfast and coffee, snuggling in bed with L because early on when we fell asleep last night, i fell into a strange, bad dream that made me unconsciously bat his hands away from my body. i’m thankful that when i brought it up he laughed about it. i’m thankful to recognize that my fear of signs and symbols in a relationship stems from my own insecurities and not anything real in the relationship. i’m thankful that L’s way of fielding my anxieties is to make jokes, even though it doesn't always work for me.

i’m thankful that when i tried to play guitar for L last night i thought to pull up the tabs for laura marling’s “failure,” which i used to play often and well. i’m thankful that even though i played badly and got mildly upset that because my guitar playing was bad, it distracted me from being able to sing as well as i’m able, i sang him the song later with no guitar, and sang it better. though i feel embarrassed about how childish my insistence that i “get it right” seems this morning, i’m thankful that i found a way to sing and not shut down.

i’m thankful to have realized how outrageously depressing the lyrics to “failure” are as i sang it to L, and i’m thankful that we laughed about it. i’m thankful for laura marling’s lyrics, and her voice.

i’m thankful that all this made me think about why i’m most nervous sharing my skills with the people i’m closest to. i’m thankful to have recalled earlier yesterday — before any of this happened — the moment, when i was maybe nine or ten, when i was sitting at the computer using microsoft paint and found the design or font i was looking for and mock-sang a line of “hallelujah” à la handel’s messiah and my dad, who had just walked in, said in a tone of genuine surprise and delight, “wow! that was good!” i’m thankful to recall, viscerally, the embarrassment that came over me, and the determination to never be caught singing again. i’m thankful that, despite that, i ended up studying classical voice and performing for many years.

i’m thankful that i googled “why am i embarrassed performing friends family people i know.” i'm thankful that it led me to a 7-step list of how to get over insecurities where every step was some iteration of "get over yourself, it's in your head." i'm thankful that yesterday when i googled "lil wayne lipstick" it immediately gave the the song i'd been thinking of ("let the beat build"). i'm thankful for google.

i’m thankful that writing out my thankfulness about these things is genuinely calming me. i’m thankful that every time my mind tries to block me from doing things that i know would make me feel calm — putting on music in the morning while i make coffee, showering and getting dressed to start my day, taking a break for a walk when the weather’s nice — when i push past that block, the things always work.

i’m thankful to think that the only thing standing between me and a happier me is my resistance toward being calm. i’m thankful to recognize that that resistance is in no small part chemical. (i’m thankful that this feels like a revelation to me every time i remember it.) either way, i’m thankful to recognize that, for me, achieving calm = increased happiness. i’m thankful to be working toward healthier ways to achieve that calm than i have in the past.

i'm thankful for snow.

- molly (3/10/17).