on Gratitude and Wendy Cope's "The Orange"-- stay warm!



The pellet stove is humming along nicely. I'm grateful for the fact that G cleans it just about every morning so it runs well. Today, it will be my best companion as I sit and write and laugh with friends on Zoom in my writing class. I'm grateful for the class; too much of the outside world has seeped into my poet-mind, and I can't seem to write much of anything, and what I do write is angry and boring. I'm hoping that today will give me a new rabbit hole to fall into. 

I'm grateful for a lot of things. I spend far too much time worrying and bemoaning the disastrous state of things. It'd be hard not to-- I don't even know how some people are just floating along with no idea about what's tearing our country and our world apart. They don't see (or don't want to see) the generational damage that is being done. So, I tend to get sucked into and caught up by the horrors. Most folks I know are feeling a level of anxiety that eclipses that of the pandemic in a lot of ways. And to think that this is what followed that paradigm shift is almost too much to bear. 

Almost.

But I have a warm home, a career I can do pretty well, a family that I love and like, and plenty of food in the cupboards. So many people don't have those things and they have to contend with the same social anxieties. It can't be borne, at least not long-term, but here we are. 

So today, I am going to wallow in gratitude. Every little good thing. Coffee in my cup. A warm bathrobe. My laundry is almost all done being washed for the weekend. I got my groceries in 15 minutes (!!) on my way home from work yesterday. I got to read silly early reader books with Holly. The list goes on, and for that, too, I'm grateful. 

I'm reminded of a poem that focuses on gratitude for the simple things, and how they are not guaranteed. Wendy Cope's "The Orange" is one of those poems that, on the surface, seems to be overly simple, but yet, there's the middle stanza:

And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.
This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

What gets me every time is that line break at "often do/ Just lately." And the last little enjambed sentence, "It's new." 

Isn't that true? The things that make us happy are not always with us. Or, we haven't experienced the little joys in a very long time. Or, we haven't paid attention.

The poem ends with this:

I love you. I’m glad I exist.

To be honest, I don't know if I say that often enough. That I'm glad I exist. But the silliest, simplest thing is, despite the angst, the worry, the chores, and all the other weights I carry, I'm much happier that I do exist. And I have all of you, too. 

Thanks for being my "orange." 

Have a super day, snuggle up and keep warm, and defy the odds. 

C

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