All of the Little, Simple Things.

And it isn't a whole lot, either.  But, you know, I think it's a lot more than many people do have, so I'm looking at the glass as being half-full.  Bashing myself for what isn't right or what's missing never helped me in the past.  Rarely has being hard on myself like that been a good motivation to change my situation. 

I spent one week without a home.  All of the possessions I could carry were in my car.  As the evenings grew near, I would start to panic, wondering where I would stay, and wondering what I would do if I couldn't find a place.  I felt adrift in the middle of Metro Vancouver, an area I didn't know well.  I was without any anchor. 

Inevitably, I'd get a room in some motel, which I could hardly afford to spend the money I had left on.  In the end, however, I had little choice.  My world had shrunk so tight around me, that I had a hard time perceiving what was past the end of my nose.  The world beyond that was not about to do me any favours -- it was up to me whether I swam or sank.  At least I found a place to stay each night, to take a bath, and turn the t.v. on, to help keep my mind off my worries.  I wound up crying anyway, until I was too tired and had no choice but fall asleep. 

I couldn't carry much with me in the way of food, and the motel rooms I got didn't have kitchen facilities anyway.  I grew to quickly detest sandwiches bought at gas station convenience stores and cheap cafes.

With the help of a guardian angel, I was able to move into a rooming house after that terrible week.  I still live there today, although now it feels like home; it's been over two years now.  One of the first things I did when I moved in was buy some simple groceries, then make myself a couple peanut butter and jam sandwiches.  That simple pleasure felt like a miracle.  I was so thankful for it, and for the security of having a permanent roof over my head, though it hardly felt like home.  Memories like that stay with you -- they have with me, at least. 

Though I don't have much today, it's more when I first moved in.  For the first several months here, I had books, a radio, and c.d. player for entertainment.  It wasn't until half-a-year later that I bought a second-hand t.v., vcr, and dvd player from a co-worker.  It wasn't until early this year that I had a second-hand computer.  I've hung some pictures up, and got some shelving to make more space -- it's just one room, after all, though a pretty good size.  I have two chair, as well.

I'm not well off, but I'm okay.  The only things that don't stay in my room are what goes in the fridge.  The fridge has a lock on it, too, as we had one room-mate who was stealing everyone else's food in the middle of the night.  I nearly cleaned his clock one day, and he disappeared some time ago. 

This is how I've come to be content and thankful for what I have, rather than resent what I don't.