It’s been a long, cold spring semester. My classes aren’t extremely hard or extremely exciting. Overall, it’s been humdrum. Humdrum is not exciting to write about.
I’m halfway through college, trying to decide whether I should be happy with what I have or try for something better. You see, I’m in a good place right now—I have a half scholarship at an affordable school, and I’m living at home in a friendly atmosphere. But, my SAT scores were also off the school’s charts when I applied two years ago. I’ve been looking for a double major ever since my first semester, something fulfilling and challenging, yet never sticking with one. I’m always looking for something more, and I tell myself there’s nothing wrong with that.
But it can make me ungrateful. Distracted from enjoying what I can do right here with what I have. (And what I have here is more wondrous than kings had a century ago. World wide web anyone? Unlimited information, communication and self publishing?)
Astounding possibilities are at my fingertips, always. To be thankful, I have to begin to see these, and to see the bounty I have both in experience and material wealth. It’s spring, finally. Luckily for me, the returning of sunshine and life to the woods always makes me overfill with gratitude.
Another word for grateful is “indebted”—needing to pay back a debt. All writers are debtors. All writing is a gift back to someone, and only the grateful feel the need to give. It’s much easier to be pulled towards your pen and paper than force yourself to it.
Remember gratitude. Remember those you’re indebted to and could never hope to repay for their kindness. Then give freely through your words, and write without reservation.