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Gratitude

Three lines each night, enough to shift a day

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A strip of cream cotton cloth on a bamboo line, lifting gently in the afternoon wind over a grassy canal bank, the distance softly blurred
Living Well

The November Winds and End-of-Year Gratitude

The chướng wind arrives and the shirts on the balcony fly the wrong way. A seasonal piece for year's end, with three small things for windy afternoons and a way out if this year is heavy.

Oct 15, 2026 · 4 min read

An intersection at twilight seen from afar, red traffic light glowing, a few figures waiting under a grey-blue sky
Living Well

Thursday. I Forgot Who I Ate Lunch With

A very ordinary day, nothing remarkable. Sitting down at night to write three lines of gratitude, I finally realized how much slipped away without me catching it.

Sep 11, 2026 · 4 min read

A person lying on their back on a grassy hillside at twilight, arms open at their sides, the horizon still faintly lit in the distance
Living Well

Ten Minutes of Thanking Your Body

We thank so many people, but rarely thank the feet that carried us all day. A ten-minute meditation, read slowly, for the evening before sleep.

Sep 11, 2026 · 4 min read

A small cloth-bound notebook resting closed on a wooden tabletop by a window, pale afternoon sun washing over the cover, foggy meadow outside
Living Well

Gratitude is not feeling lucky

The gratitude journal I bought lasted four days before being abandoned. Not out of laziness — but because every time I wrote, I felt like I was forcing myself to stop complaining.

Sep 11, 2026 · 6 min read