February seems to be my sulky month. I think it’s the weather. The world wears this uniform of gray. I prefer colors. The wind and cold bites at your skin. It makes me miss the soft kiss of sunshine. There’s less daylight and my brain seems to shut off—some part of it hibernates, goes on strike, disappears. Instead of living with this gusto of energy, I feel like I’m enduring. Surviving. Going through the motions.

You guys ever get like that?

The other day I was having a ‘poor me’ moment, and a thought grazed my mind. Maybe it was my subconscious kicking me in the butt, telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself. So, being a writer, I opened up my journal (a black journal that boasts Austin Screenplay Festival on the cover that my husband bought me for Christmas. I promised him I wouldn’t use it for grocery lists) and I started writing this memorial to happy thoughts. I drew a tower of stones from the top of the page to the bottom. And next to each stone I wrote down something I was happy about. It could be as simple as taking a walk with a friend, to a major prayer being answered. I sat and stared at that list, that huge list of wonderful things. I meditated on those thoughts. I reminded myself that instead of thinking about what life lacks, think about what it provides. It’s strange how so much of what we see on the outside is really just a reflection of how we feel on the inside.

That simple exercise made me see things so much brighter. Even on this gray, cold, February day.