Salt, Ink & Soul — Weekend Reflection
The days after Thanksgiving have always felt like a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The noise fades, the house settles, and suddenly there’s space — space to think, to feel, to hear the quiet truths that get lost in the rush of the holiday.
There’s a different kind of gratitude that lives in these slower hours.
Not the big, performative kind that gets spoken around tables or posted online.
But the smaller, steadier kind — the gratitude that rises from the life you return to when the celebration ends.
I’m grateful that I have a place to stay — a space that holds me, shelters me, and gives me room to breathe.
I’m grateful that I have food to eat — not just the leftovers stacked in the fridge, but the comfort of knowing the next meal is within reach.
I’m grateful that I have a job to go to — a place to show up, to contribute, to remain anchored in a world that often feels uncertain.
And I’m grateful — deeply, quietly grateful — for my friends.
The ones who check in without being asked.
The ones who text or call just to make sure I’m alright.
The ones who notice the small shifts in my voice and remind me I don’t have to carry everything alone.
That kind of care is its own blessing.
Soft, steady, and honest.
I’m grateful for the leftovers that gently carry me into the days ahead.
For the containers packed a little fuller than expected.
For the warmth of yesterday lingering inside today’s refrigerator light.
Some blessings arrive loud.
Others whisper.
And I’m learning — slowly, steadily — to hear both.
Kyle J. Hayes
kylehayesblog.com
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Resources for Hard Times
If you’re looking for practical help, food support, or community resources, you can visit the Salt, Ink & Soul Resources Page.
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