gratitude and twitter

Woohoo! back in the playground this weekend. So awesome to be with so many thoughtful ladies (and guys, too! it’s true!). I hope you follow the link to see what I share over there, and then look around and read some of the other great posts.

For all its practical uses and community building, Twitter can also easily turn into a source of self-absorption, where we go to whine and bemoan the petty ills that befall us.

It’s not just that no one wants to listen to a sourpuss all day. There’s a real danger in engaging in this persistent negativity. It brings us down, and brings others down with us. It turns us into ungrateful social media brats. And it’s contagious.

What if, instead of getting on social media first thing in the morning and complaining about not having enough sleep, we Tweeted in thanksgiving for having a bed to sleep in? What would happen to us if our first thought of the day was to express gratitude for our blessings?

[read the rest here]

snapshots of my day…

* enjoyed my morning cup of coffee instead of the usual guzzling

* an amusing distraction courtesy of Silly Songs with Larry and a curious craving for cucumber salad

* a faithful prayer of thanksgiving for my dear dear friend and his battle with cancer … and a prayer for physical relief and creative focus for another

* the pretty lavender and eggplant lining in my black suit jacket makes me feel feminine on the inside and corporate on the outside — I like my secrets

* the fact that women reading this understand “eggplant”

* it’s cool enough for a sweater — mine is teal

* God’s house is big — where a door closes there’s usually another door open — I don’t need to go crawling through windows

* the oak outside my office window is still green and looks majestic against the bright blue sky

* in the continuing game of finding random Cubans everywhere, met a new student recently arrived from Havana

* a shot and a beer, albeit virtual, hit the spot when I found it around happy hour

* got home to a special delivery pizza, a glass (or two) of wine, and a quiet conversation on the porch. aaah.