Killer Surprise of Gratitude

by Dian Reid-Jancic· Follow Dian on

This morning I walked into our home-office and found a surprise just outside the second of two litter boxes we have for just as many cats. Killer never has been good at taking care of business inside the box; she’s a finicky girl—always has been. I picked up after her and got in the shower, ready to ponder the rest of my day.

Coaching calls and lunch dates and errands to run and blogs to write and videos to record and animals to tend to and gratitude to grate.

The coaching calls took care of themselves. I called my coach and got coached; my clients will call me and get coached. The lunch date took care of itself. I showed up and so did my dates; we ate, we drank (water), and we were merry before heading our separate ways, home and otherwise. The blogs and the videos will certainly not write or record themselves. Clearly, the animals will not tend to themselves (at least, not Killer). And the gratitude, well it’s always out there, in here, around everywhere, and still somehow it seems elusive and flowing all at the same time.

I picture gratitude as a flowing river that touches anyone willing to dip a toe or dive in. I can linger in gratitude for as long as I like; I can save gratitude in a canteen for later; I can stare from afar in fear of the mighty river of gratitude [and other scary ‘tudes]; I can leave a surprise just outside the river for someone else to come along and pick up.


I’ll be honest. I have no idea where I’m going with this. But if you’re reading it now, something clicked and made sense enough to publish, so bear with me.


I read Kylie Springman’s post this morning on approaching life’s little details like they’re the cute babies we get so gaga over. As I lay curled up around The Wildcat, her hand holding tight onto mine, I tried not to feel guilty about lingering in bed for just a minute longer. Linger…what if I’m just grateful for the time I have with this amazing woman and stay just a little while longer?

I recently got hooked on Damages and proceeded to watch seasons one and two in all-day/night-marathon-fashion via Netflix streaming. Season three, however, would have to be viewed differently. No streaming, only waiting. What if I savor what I have and allow myself something I look forward to rather than another thing to race through?

When I thought about getting my coaching certification it scared the hell out of me. I sat by the river of Certification and watched it flow by. Watched as others took in the learning and became better coaches. Watched as fear gripped my soul and chained me to a post beside the river, having me believe I don’t have what it takes to be certified. Turns out fear is much weaker than my authenticity (and not quite as smart). That chain was made of Rice Krispies and not even locked to the post. What if I move forward and just see what happens? What if I let go of expectations and fear and judgment?

Which somehow leads me to the surprise Killer leaves every now and then outside the litter box. She’s fickle, finicky—a Princess (her name is actually Princess Killer of Devonshire)—and she won’t take care of business inside the litter box if conditions aren’t *just* to her liking. Hmm… How often do I avoid things or put things off because the conditions aren’t just to my liking? Hello, Honesty, meet Ouch.

The point is, there’s so much in my world to be grateful for, and there’s no right (or wrong) way to do it. I can dip my toe into the river or even [gulp] dive in every now and then; I can save some in a canteen for later or I can rush through it all in excitement; I can chain myself to a post and watch from afar or I can open my eyes and see that there are no such thing as chains of fear outside my mind; I can also surprise myself by diving in, carefree of perfect conditions that just don’t exist.

Maybe even publishing this post without it being the special kind of perfect that exists only in Killer’s and my head.

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