Skip to Content, Navigation, or Footer.
Sunday, May 26
The Indiana Daily Student

opinion

COLUMN: Growing pains: list your gratitude

opgrowingpains012223-illo

This week, the weather was beautiful, and I couldn’t help but be grateful. It’s the most cliché thing in the world, but the sun puts a smile on your face. I sat on my balcony and basked, and I wrote down what exactly I was grateful for in as much detail as I could feel. I think it changed my life. Here is what I’m grateful for this week:  

Sunny, beautiful mornings, where sitting outside for morning coffee feels simple but enormous at the same time. Where a lull of a hazy morning contradicts the intended caffeine rush, but it feels worth it to be slow for a while.  

Friendship – in its depths, hardships, triumphs and silliness. Companionship and knowing laughter, the glow of each day knowing you walk not alone, but alongside the ones you love dearly, and who love you, too.  

Breakfast with said friends in your college town’s local deli. A big pancake with sticky maple syrup. Eggs over medium, potatoes, hot sauce. The noises of clanking dishes wear as the morning rush settles in. Walking through the pouring rain to reach the door to the restaurant, though it was a summer day less than 24 hours ago. The typicality of discussing unpredictable weather made great by good company.  

[Related: COLUMN: Growing pains: an ode to awe]

Music, and its impact on the whole wide world, and on my own little Earthly experience. The power of listening and reflecting, of guessing meaning and making my own. The first drive with my windows down, the sunset ahead of me and green grass beside me. A thick humidity broken by the occasional cool breeze.  

The color green. The rich, reflective chlorophyll pigment on each blooming tree. The green that screams life. The green that returns each spring to softly pad the white flowers. The green that feeds on the hot beams of the sunshine, the sunshine that permeates the summertime. The sunshine that makes the days first chilly, then hot, then blows a warm breeze across your heart and your lungs at approximately 7 p.m. 

The dew on the grass, as though it hasn’t been said before, one million and one times and in one million and one ways. The water, the clear perspiration of the sweet green blades. The rich conditioner of nature, that particularly hopeful feeling of the rain cycle. 

And that’s what I’m grateful for this week, and I think you should write down what you’re grateful for, too. Or just think about it. To each their own: isn’t that great?  Either way, I think it will change your life. 

Audrey Vonderahe (she/her) is a sophomore studying journalism and criminal justice. 

Get stories like this in your inbox
Subscribe