It is no secret that 2020 hasn’t gone, er, how we expected. Or hoped. Or could have imagined. Is this a rehashing of plagues? Are we in the middle of an apocalyptic drama? Is this just simply how the future is based on all the crap humans (and particularly White USAmerican humans) have done to this planet? 

You’ve seen this meme, right? If not, well...it resonates...

My dear friend Margaret has started doing this lovely practice of grounding and centering some mornings, complete with a song and a poem. (Sadly, we are in different time zones and so I can’t make it to her centering times) Last week, one of the poems she highlighted was Andrea Gibson’s Things That Don’t Suck (Pansy, 2015). And, being the wonderful prophetic minister she is, Margaret included a reflection prompt for self-work. The prompt was this: to make my own list of things that don’t suck!

So here goes.

Foggy mornings. Pie crust. Sending postcards. Getting mail. Lighting a candle. The first autumn leaf color. A fully charged phone. Slippers. Coffee mugs. Calls with grandma. Reporting trolls on Twitter. Macarons. When the laundry is folded and put away. Two-hour naps. Wool socks. The shell collection in the cupholder. Warm towels. Pockets. Snails. Lavender. Vacuum lines on worn carpet. Sunday morning donuts. Houseplants. A fresh skein of yarn. Compost worms. Love letters. The Great British Bake Off. Faded photographs. Laughing out loud. The chocolate bar stashed in the desk drawer. Overthinking Midwestern pronunciation. New leaves on fiddle-leaf figs. That bright-dark autumn sky. Baby photos in pumpkin patches. Rereading beloved books. Birdfeeders. Grandma’s jewelry dish. Anticipating snow.

What’s on your list of things that don’t suck?