Reflection

 

Reflection — “The Medicine of Gratitude”

Today I realize something deep:

my peace does not come from rooms filled with people,

or from meetings where others talk about their past pain

while sitting in the comfort of homes and cars they still have.

My peace, right now, comes from gratitude —

raw, simple, survival gratitude.

The kind you hold onto

when you don’t know where you’ll live next week,

when money is gone,

when family disappears,

and when the world looks at you through material eyes.

I understand now:

when a person is walking through real trauma,

gratitude is not a small practice —

it is the medicine that keeps the mind balanced.

I can’t expect people who have safety,

who get to go home after their meetings,

who sleep in warm beds

and complain about yesterday’s drinking,

to understand what it means to be grateful

for simply having a place to rest for one more night.

I am on a different path.

Not better, not worse —

just deeper.

My discipline, my silence, my yoga, my breath

have become the tools that keep me steady

when life is shaking around me.

I am learning that not every space is good for the mind.

Not every voice is medicine.

And sometimes,

protecting my peace

is more important than attending a room

that drains my spirit.

I honor my intuition today.

I honor the part of me that knows

what my soul can handle

and what it cannot.

I choose gratitude instead of noise.

I choose silence instead of pressure.

I choose rest instead of forcing myself into places

that do not feed my spirit.

Today, I reflect on my own strength:

how I survived,

how I transformed,

how I wake up every day with discipline,

how gratitude has kept me alive

when everything else fell apart.

This is my path.

This is my medicine.

This is my clarity.

And I am grateful.