My Gratitude Journal
1 January
Let us flourish together through sharing gratitude.
10 January
Some days ago, a good acquaintance suddenly left this earth. He is just the beginning of his 50th, though he had a heart attack in Ukraine on his vacation trip. Perhaps I could say he was still lucky he was not killed.
It has been quite challenging to welcome the feeling of gratitude in the chaotic situation where nobody knew what had happened to him.
Now, after 2 days of the news, I can thank him that we could meet in the situation where he gave church services and I accompanied him with the piano. We did at least 15 or 20 services together. After I left the Netherlands and the pandemic began, he used my music recordings in the service so the church community could hear and remember me.
It has not yet been easy to have a restful mind, but I thank the daily prayers I received from a nun in the cloister where I stayed on the last trip. They wash my emotions and lead me to a sacredly clean, pure space where I may feel safe. I am so grateful that the nun cared for me so well: I had been saying I missed joining daily prayer with them. She sent the digital data of their prayers within the day when I sent a mail about my missing feeling of being there with them.
6 February
This afternoon. This is a front door view from inside of my house. The bird came down to the lease I made myself. How sweet! It is perhaps nothing special in the area I had lived near Utrecht for long years. But, here I live now, has little nature- still birds and butterflies visit my garden since I have grown a lot of plants and trees. It was a delightful moment on a very cold winter day.
19 January
I am grateful for a prayer I found by coincidence. It recites gratitude for our ability to desire and accept devotional sincerity. It leads me to stillness in humility.
I appreciate some silence during the day whenI can stop and be in devotion. In such moments, I can easily anticipate something new and creative that may start this year.
I am grateful for the positive feeling that I may and will commit more to this community.
I am grateful that I can light a candle. The light of the flame is so beautiful. It was impossible because of the mega earthquake alert during the whole summer.
23 January
I am grateful that today’s Grateful Gathering went well. How wonderful to see the transformation in regular participants after 9 months. They now appreciate the beauty of silence, enjoy listening to each other, and express gratitude sincerely. It was a truly beautiful ripple of gratitude and love - I could experience.
Participants left these words at the end of today’s gathering.
Look for God in silence / express love in actions / pour love in a vessel / It is ok with a tiny act.
I am, of course from deep in my heart, so grateful for this opportunity by Grateful Living Organisation and all your support to me in this lounge.
14 February
This month’s Grateful Gathering theme, ‘Make space for love,’ has given me a wonderful opportunity: During my preparation as a host, it led me to explore reading different texts about love. I had never done it, and I found it so meaningful work.
I am grateful for this opportunity.
I picked up some texts from Rumi, Mother Teresa, and the letter to Corinthian as standard pieces of literature. I read only a part, and my understanding can be mistaken, but for me now, Rumi describes what love is. Corinthian 13 explains the quality of love, and Mother Teresa guides us on seeing God’s Love in us and acting upon love.
During the process, I found this beautiful poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, which resonates much with me. Besides those legendary writings, I found this new poem outstandingly beautiful. I like to share it with you.
It shows me the beauty of receiving love.
How We Are Held
When my arms were the most empty,
when my hands were unable to hold anything
and I was most unselved,
that was when I felt the most gathered up
by love. An immeasurable and wildly precise love.
Even when I wanted to push love away.
Even when I felt too broken to be found.
I felt love gather all my pieces.
Not to fix them.
Not to put them back together.
Love simply held every shattered thought
and every ruined dream and cradled me
just as I was. Not because I deserved it.
Just because that is what love does.
I am learning to trust this feeling of belonging
to the world, broken as it is, broken as I am,
learning to trust I need not do a thing to belong.
I do not know how it all works
or why I was able to receive it.
But I can’t unknow this unfathomable truth:
how love holds us when we cannot
hold anything, gentle as silence,
fierce as a flood, true as the breaking itself.
The way the ocean forever holds every wave.
The way the shore forever changes to hold the ocean.
February 26
This winter here is cold, and it is often windy. But most of the time, it is together with a beautiful blue sky. I feel the air is washed. Our egoistic human minds seemed to be blown away together with industrial dust. I am grateful to feel it with my skin and that our mother earth has such purifying power.
For the last 10 days, I was vulnerable, and my heart was very dry. But coincidentally, I received a flood of warm messages from many friends and acquaintances. Their warm hearts seemed like a spring of Love. I was so grateful for each person and the opportunity to experience such a mystery of Love. I feel God noticed my tears and heard my soul weeping. He made it happen to rescue me. I say my thanks to God.
I am now deepening my understanding of love: how I trust love like I trust God. My vessel is almost fully filled. I am grateful for these 10 days. I also learned how to transform my mourning and endeavour into poems. It has become a unique opportunity to develop myself, not through the courses, but through people with heart.
10 February
This is the first half of my improvisation on a hymn. I am still in the process of developing it. An acquaintance of mine, a church minister who suddenly passed away in the beginning of January, loved this hymn. I remember him telling me so when I played it during a service. In his memory, I wanted to offer this piece as a requiem.
I am grateful I had time to engrave my grief like this, even though it is unfinished.
When I recorded this last Wednesday, I had only 10 minutes at the piano—just enough to capture this unfinished moment. Next month, when I return to this hall, I will complete the piece and share the full version here. May this music bring peace to those who need it.
