Gratitude and Gentle Courage

Gratitude and Gentle Courage

Some mornings, the world feels louder than it should.

Busy.

Rushed.

Tilted just enough to throw you off center.

On those days, I step onto the porch with my coffee,

sit down,

and let the quiet do the talking.

Gratitude is easier to find out there.

Not the big kind people like to post about,

but the small kind that hides in ordinary moments.

The steam rising from my mug.

The soft weight of a dog leaning against my leg.

The way the air feels right before the day decides what it will become.

These small things remind me that courage does not always roar.

Sometimes it whispers.

Sometimes it sits quietly beside you until you are ready to breathe again.

Gentle courage looks like choosing to show up for yourself

even when the world pulls you in ten different directions.

It looks like kindness you extend inward

when the day feels heavy before it even begins.

It looks like giving yourself a moment to remember

that you do not have to move at the world’s pace.

You are allowed to move at your own.

So today I am grateful for the tiny things that steady me.

The ones that pull my attention back toward my heart

when my thoughts start running too far ahead.

A warm porch.

A soft morning.

A little space to gather myself.

A reminder that quiet is not an escape.

It is a way of returning.

And maybe that is what courage really is.

Not pushing harder,

but coming back to yourself

again and again

until you feel like a person in your own life

rather than a ghost moving through it.

If today feels shaky,

start small.

Start gentle.

Start with a breath,

a cup of something warm,

and the reminder that you are allowed to be human.

The rest will come.