I am grateful for the positive things in my life.

Gratitude collapses the moment it goes abstract. Family. Health. A roof. All true, all so large they have stopped having any texture, which is why the list starts feeling like homework by the fourth day.

The version that survives contact is embarrassingly small and specific. Somebody put the bins out without being asked. A colleague covered for you on Wednesday and made nothing of it afterwards. The bakery had one left.

Those are the ones that land, because they name a person and a day, and because you could not possibly have written them in advance.