You're so pretty when you're quiet.

I used to write a lot.  A lot.  I was in creative writing competitions in middle school; in high school, I kept a journal on a 3.5" disk that I carried everywhere; I created a website one of my first college classes.  I even hounded my favorite professor to let me into his classes when they were overbooked.  One was a reviewing class for budding theater and film critics.  

Movies and telling people what I think?  I like both those things!

Somehow, though, I let it get away from me.  I was too busy, or there were reruns of Friends on (again), or I just couldn't think of anything "good" to write about.  I have dozens of blank notebooks and journals with just five or six pages filled.

This blog is part of a renewed effort to get back into it.  I'm tickled that you're reading! ...but even if I were out here on the interwebs alone, I'd still delight in each entry.  

The second part of that effort is something called a gratitude journal.  Oprah has talked about the concept on several occasions.  Sarah Ban Breathnach, author of Simple Abundance, places great emphasis on using gratitude to find your "authentic self."  

I love that word:  authentic.  Real, true, genuine.  

So I've started one.  I bought a pretty blank book (#417, I think) and I have it sitting right out on my nightstand with the clock and my glasses and the omnipresent water glass, where I can see it every night before I go to bed.

It started out simple enough; I just wanted to keep some quick daily notes on the things that make my life more beautiful.  In the short time I've been logging them, though, I've discovered that it's given me one more thing to savor:  five minutes of quiet every day! 

Just making myself sit still for a hot minute is something worth noting.  I'm one of those morning people who is go-go-go from the moment my feet hit the floor... but at night, when I'm clocking out on the day, that split second of quiet is priceless.

(And yes, today's title is something J says every now and then... right before he ducks the punch I throw at him.)