When Google shows you everything you’ve forgotten, find meaning in the little things
Through a gratitude journal
“I’m absolutely shattered today.”
“Same here. A thousand things to do, nobody listens to me, it’s all on me.”
“Every day’s the same.”
“Tell me about it, I keep going round in circles. Forever.”
If someone recorded my conversations with family and friends, this is exactly how they’d sound. It’s all the same, chores, chores. I don’t even know where the time goes any more, or what year it is. So there I am, sitting and brooding about the greyness of it all, when – Google decides to cheer me up with memories.
Well, would you look at that – in the photos some woman is laughing with her family, kissing the children. Get a load of this, when was this then – we’re all in the garden, spraying each other with water, the heat, summer, my little boy who was really little back then, squealing with delight and running towards me. Next photo – a message from the kids. The letters all wobbly and wonky, sizes and spelling all over the place. “WE LoVE YoU MUM”. And then a few more photos, one after another. Lovely memories, days and little moments I’d forgotten. The days were by no means all the same or grey. It’s just that I’d somehow forgotten to be grateful. If Google decided that this trip down memory lane would tug at our heartstrings, why shouldn’t we take matters into our own hands?
I remember my friend got a complete set of notebooks for her 18th birthday. They were filled with jottings from her life – first steps, teeth, the funny things children come out with that usually get retold at family gatherings. I remember how she read the diary of her life for days, utterly spellbound. Just imagine all those little things, all those small thank-yous to life over 18 years. I imagine her parents must have had some sort of plan to write the lovely things down in the evening, because the notebooks aren’t always to hand. At least it’s easy for us now. Seeing as modern technology has taken over our time and space, let’s put it to good use.
So I’ve made a plan:
Choose a Format
Writing would suit me best. If someone would rather record voice notes, that’s easy to find too.
When Should I Write?
I think the best jottings in this gratitude journal will come about in the moment. For example: “T woke up before us this morning. The bread and milk were already on the table by the time we got up.” But some things will need more time, or I might have to ask myself in the evening what lovely thing happened today and what I’m grateful for. The only right answer to this question is – write regularly.
What Should I Write About?
Whatever you like, it’s your journal, they’re your thank-yous. Sometimes it’ll be an illness that passed without medicine, sometimes a lovely evening playing Risk, and sometimes the big things like passing the school year. And of course, I’m grateful for the little things that happen outside of parenting too. (I had coffee with friends today; it’s summer; my favourite film is at the cinema this weekend…)
Should I Read Back What I’ve Written?
Yes, absolutely. When random photos from a few years ago gave me such a warm feeling, I’m certain my own thoughts will give me even more pleasure.
That’s my little decision for this summer. I imagine all the things it might bring me in the future. I’ll focus on the lovely moments. I’ll replay them over and over, as I write about them and read them again. Maybe I’ll spot some patterns of behaviour – my own and my family’s. I’m forever replaying things in my head as it is. My own words will just help me understand better.
It’ll be easier for me to get through stressful moments. Because I know there’s something lovely to happen every day. And who knows, maybe when my children turn 18, there’ll be an app to help me put the photos and the gratitude journal together, and the present will be a lovely little film.
And finally, I’ll put it into practice in everyday conversations too. When someone asks me “What’s new?” today, I’ll say, “Well, my little boy’s learnt to ride a bike. All by himself!”
