Gratitude in a List

A non-exhaustive list – in no particular order – of things, people, and experiences I am grateful for. Some eternally, some momentarily:

  • My health.
  • Myself.
  • Solitude.
  • Silence.
  • The time a bird flew close to my car while I was driving and, for a few seconds, it was like we were traveling together.
  • The rabbit we saw in a park in NY, the one that knew something.
  • CN – for being one of very few people who makes me genuinely laugh out loud. I love you and am so grateful you are my friend.
  • RZ – for bearing witness to insanity  and making it tolerable.
  • Music.
  • My P-Knot and the P-Knot crew, for being kind.
  • Philosophy.
  • My car.
  • Warmth.
  • DC – for being a friend.
  • Every animal that has ever existed, particularly those I’ve petted.
  • The internet.
  • Roger the Alien for being hilarious.
  • The gentleman who kindly asked me to smile when he saw me walking during my 2015 graduation ceremony.
  • The time I was on hold for over an hour with a company notorious for its shoddy customer service but ended up talking to someone knowledgeable.
  • The solo drive I took to Canada.
  • That bit of blubber over a shar pei’s nose.
  • ASMR.
  • Socks.
  • New Orleans.
  • Learning about introversion and knowing it’s okay to possess it; INTJ.
  • Ocarina of Time and Resident Evil 4.
  • Existentialism.
  • American Horror Story, Seasons 1 – 4.
  • TF.
  • Everything that broke my heart, before it broke my heart.
  • My threader earrings.
  • Riddles.
  • Silence. Solitude.

© Leila Chammas, December 20, 2016.


Introverted, not Antisocial 

I promise they’re not the same thing. I didn’t know that introversion was even a thing until a few years ago. I grew up hearing adults ask my mom, “What’s wrong with Marble?” “Is she okay?” “Is something bothering her?”

Uhhhh, there was a lot bothering me but that’s not what they were referring to. They wanted to know why I didn’t talk much or smile often. They wanted to know why the windup doll my mother brought along with her wasn’t moving. She’s so static, Diane. Is she okay? What won’t you smile? Give me a smile. She’s so frigid. 

I wasn’t annoyed until you asked in that way. Anyway, I’m fine. I’m not sure why I have to talk to you to prove it. Or maybe I do. My oneness is offensive, I get it. Silence is uncomfortable, strange, maybe even mysterious. A child that doesn’t play isn’t a child at all. It’s not that I don’t like people, I just like being alone more. And not all the time, just sometimes. I didn’t smile because I missed my dad and I didn’t talk much because I wasn’t sure what to say.

I enjoy your company but I’m also really observant and that exhausts me. I was sitting across the table from Alice at a rambunctious tea party and while I enjoyed every minute of it, my mind wandered the whole time.

Who cleans all these kettles? I like Alice’s dress. What does the 10/6 mean? 

Happy Unbirthday, Alice!

It’s also my unbirthday. It’s probably everyone’s unbirthday here. What are the odds that any one day would be someone in the room’s birthday? Probably not 1 out 0f 365 just because I’m pretty sure some months and even days are less common for whatever social, economic, and historic reasons. I read an article about how it’s more common to share a birthday with someone in the room than people think. Who trims their hair? It’s probably a nice job to have, painting and designing teapots and cups. I’d like to design my own set. The art is quite beautiful on these sets. How does one clean a large, velvet, red chair? Steam clean? Send it off somewhere to be cleaned? I don’t know. I wouldn’t buy furniture like that even though it’s beautiful; it would be too high maintenance. 

Make a wish, Alice!

I wonder what she wished for. The fireworks are pretty but polluting the air. 

Aww, the mouse is so cute!

Ugh, it’s adorable. It could have ended up in a lab, yet here it is, parachuting out of a cake with a teal umbrella into a teapot. Remarkable. Is it going to stay in there? I should get going, it’s getting dark and the main event is over. 

I say my goodbyes, having enjoyed the occasion but also tired myself, wondering. I’m introverted – there will always be something else vying for my mental attention. It just won’t always be you I choose to give it to.

© Leila Chammas, October 30, 2016