We find ourselves again in the season when we nudge little ones, and grown-ups, to take time and remember the wonderful bounties of life.  With the nip in the air, it is very easy for yours truly to stay home and ponder many topics, including my own good fortune.  I sit comfortably next to two of my blessings, pudgy cat and fat neck long dog, and initiate my mental rambling: Dearest Virgin Mary, praise be to thee.

Then I remember that despite my fixation with good popes, I am not Catholic, and reach for my Gratitude Journal instead.  Oh come on, you either have one or think about starting one.

Dear Gratitude Journal: Thank you for your recycled pages and the percentage of your profits that go towards planting new trees.  I am also indebted to the sharp Japanese minds that have devised this excellent razor point pen, as well as my dog’s diapers.

GJ, I really welcomed Mother Nature’s temperature choices today.  Freezing the ice on the front steps, preventing my safe access to the gym.  And then gently melting it in time for the Chinese food delivery.

But now, GJ, I open my heart to you and acknowledge my shameful behaviors.  I think I am finally ready to make a change this year.  I’ve woken up too often with a headache and a mind full of regret, stomach jostling with nausea, and heart pounding with discomfort.  GJ, no more false promises to control myself.  I am an addict, and must just stop buying the family pack of eclairs “in case of emergency.”  Or claiming disdain for fortune cookies, and then secretly using them at one a.m. as a topping on a pint of salty caramel ice cream.  I vow that tonight was my last dinner made up entirely of soft cheese.

I am very grateful for this safe space you have given me, GJ, where I can be vulnerable without fear of judgment.  Oh, and thank you ever so much for Skyfall.  Good night.