Gratitude, Practiced Gently

Gratitude isn’t loud here—well, sometimes it is—but it isn’t fireworks or perfection. It’s the laughter of five kids. It’s the sight of shoes on the floor—shoes, that should be on the rack—reminding me that my life is full of love, movement, and people who belong here. It’s in the quiet moments, too, while the coffee brews, while the snow settles into the trees, while the house is still asleep.

Some days, gratitude feels like joy. Other days, it feels like survival. But most days—most days—it feels like simply noticing what’s already there. Here at Timberline, gratitude isn’t a checklist or a performance. It’s a pause. A breath. A reminder that even in hard seasons, there is something steady beneath our feet.

Today, I am grateful for the fullness of this life, the noise and the quiet, the order and the mess, the becoming and the being. I’m grateful for the quiet moments between obligations, for work that feels purposeful, and for the slow building of a life that feels honest and earned.

Everyday, that noticing is enough.

Thank you for sharing this moment with me.

With gratitude from the Timberline,
Mariah