Missing a Post but Not the Point: A Haiti Prayer

Spent the weekend at Chattacon (sci-fi/fantasy convention) and failed to share a Sunday Sounds post for only the second time since I started the series. I'll be back next Sunday without fail. Thanks to those who let me know you missed the music.

Today, my thoughts are more focused. My beautiful friend Sitara Haye posted the following on her blog today. How can we not be filled with gratitude today for enough?

Goddess bless Haiti and all your children there. Amen.

A Haiti Prayer
- Sitara Haye

Thank you, Goddess, that I slept in a bed last night and not on the hard ground surrounded by the rubble of my hometown. Bless Haiti and all Your children there.

Thank you, Goddess, that I did not have to stand in line for water today and that the water I had was clean. Bless Haiti and all Your children there.

Thank you, Goddess, that my ears know only the hum of traffic and the ring of the phone and not the cries of hungry children or the grieving mothers or the displaced hundred-thousands. Bless Haiti and all Your children there.

Thank you, Goddess, that my daughter’s only care this morning was a loose tooth and not a lost world, a lost family, a lost home. Bless Haiti and all Your children there.

Thank you, Goddess, that I am capable of earning the money for and purchasing my own food, that I can be reliant on self and not the food wagon and the charity of a world I’ve never seen. Bless Haiti and all Your children there.

Thank you, Goddess, for a toilet for my bodily wastes and privacy, things I take for granted until I see the squalor of a wrecked nation. Bless Haiti and all Your children there.

Thank you, Goddess, for the lesson of seeing a world pouring forth aid and for letting me be part of that help. Bless Haiti and all Your children there.

Thank you, Goddess, for a firm earth beneath my feet, unshaken and unbroken. This, too, I rarely think about, and yet, a whole generation of Haitian children will grow up with the memory of the day the earth rocked beneath them. Bless Haiti and all Your children there.

Thank you, Goddess, for internet communication that allows for swift aid organization and response and brings to my eyes the devastation so that I can have this still moment being ever so grateful for the small things which, really, are not so small at all. Bless Haiti and all Your children there.

Thank you, Goddess, for my safety and sustenance today for me and my child and my family and my friends and my community. But today, we have enough. Be with Haiti and all Your children there.

Bless Haiti.

Waning Moon, Falling Leaves...Life Marches On

I'm working at home today, sitting behind my laptop screen at my dining room table. The doors onto the deck afford me a healthy dose of sunshine and an ever changing floor show of bird, leaves, wind, and weather.

Moments ago I heard a rustle and looked up to see a flurry of leaves falling to the ground, shaken loose by the breeze...and I was broadsided by memories of so many autumns, so many cool breezes on clear days, with skies so blue my eyes ached, leaves falling around me, crunching on the ground as I walked.

Autumn has always been my favorite time of year. As a child, I couldn't wait for the days to get crisp and cool. I would put on a cozy if ill-matched sweater and go outside, marveling in how different everything was...how the smells changed, the sounds,the light, the feel of the air. 

Watching those leaves fall brought that all back to me. I can smell the air standing underneath the two scalybark hickory trees in the front yard of a house where we lived, even though I'm in my kitchen. I can feel my red cotton Buster Brown sweater with snaps up the front and my rain boots and warm socks. And I'm crying...and I'm not sure why.

Fall comes with such regularity...no matter how sweet the summer, there is no holding back, no slowing the progression of time. This is my 52nd October...I'll see my 53rd November in just a few weeks...and while I know that there will be countless more beyond, I won't always see them. The autumn breezes that energize me and the smells of fallen leaves on damp ground that thrill me every year will go on. One day, I just won't be there to see it. And I honestly don't know if I'm crying because I know my time in this life will end or because the time I've had has been so damned precious, so sweet and juicy and rich.

I don't know what happens when we die.  Nature teaches me, though, that life is endless...that everything that lives dies...and lives again in some form. I trust that it will be so with me, too, and I'm not afraid. I'm not in a hurry...but I have no fear. If anything, my days are so much sweeter lately. The recent death of a young friend and that of at least two other young men that I'm aware of has heightened my awareness of the brevity of life and my gratitude for every moment.

One thing I do know...sitting here working when I want to be outside dancing in the falling leaves is taking every bit of discipline I have. Life is short and fall is wonderful and leaves make the best waltz partners, much to the amusement of my neighbors. Ah, but what of it? Life is too short to worry about giggling neighbors. 

I'm outta here...lunch hour will see no sandwich or soup today. Instead, I'll be twirling in the backyard, arms flung wide, laughing and singing and soaking up Mama's last dance before the long sleep.

Strike up the band...a fiddle tune, if you please...and make it lively...

Photographs: Linda Davenport 2009

May You Never Hunger

In Wiccan ritual circles, it is traditional to share a bit of food and drink near the end of the ritual. The plate and cup are passed to each participant with the words, “May you never hunger,” and, “May you never thirst.”

It’s one of my favorite parts of ritual…but I’ve always been nagged just a bit by the words. To never know hunger…to never thirst…isn’t quite right.

I don’t know that changing a time-honored and much loved ritual tradition is in order…but the thoughts beg to be shared so share them I will…with you…here.

My wish for you…

May you know enough sadness
to deepen your joy.


May you experience fear
that you may know your own courage.


May you feel loneliness
that you may cherish company.


May you be acquainted with death
that you may live fully.


May you experience hunger
that you may understand enough.


May you thirst just enough
to sweeten your cup.

Blessed be, my friends…and may you live in gratitude and abundance.

All Gratefuled Up and No One to Thank

Church signs have caught my eye several times of late. Here's the latest:

Pity the poor atheist who feels grateful and has no one to thank.

If you've been reading here for any time at all, you know that gratitude is one of the fundamental spiritual principles of my life. There are times when I am so filled with gratitude, with appreciation and receptiveness, that I feel like I might just burst, a somewhat rounder than usual human shaped nova of golden light, a giant gratitude sparkler sending little bits of happy light everywhere. It's an intense feeling, as close to ecstatic communion with the divine All as anything I know.

I don't know why someone would think that not having a specific entiy toward which to speak words of thanks would reduce the beauty or intensity of the emotion.

If you receive an anonymous gift, something that you really need or want, are you miserable and piteous because you have no one to thank?  You might be driven mad with curiousity. You could, if you're the cynical, suspicious sort, be so consumed with identifying the source that you fail to appreciate the gift. Or, I suppose, if you're one who absolutely cannot rest until you've sent a couteous thank you note, you might lose sleep until you've fulfilled that obligation.

In my spiritual path, gratitude is not a command and thanks is not an obligation; neither are they optional. Gratitude is not a religious tenet; it's a spiritual principle, both an action and a result, a universal cause-and-effect that applies to everyone. It's a state of open, receptive awareness, one that allows blessings to flow through our lives and opens the way to connect with the Divine in everyone and everything. It is also the emotion that results from that connection and from awareness of our many blessings. And the idea that people who don't believe in deity deserve pity because they feel gratitude and don't have a god to whom they can express that gratitude indicates a lack of understanding of the principle.

There's more than one way to express gratitude. Saying thank you to the source of our gifts is one way, a good one, but I'm a bigger fan of "paying it forward." What better way could there be to acknowledge our gratitude and expess our awareness and appreciation for the good things in our lives than by helping others, by being a blessing in their lives? A personal thank you to your Source is nice; allowing that Source to work through you in the lives of others is divine. If you serve the All, what does it matter if you call on a god or not? Whether you serve in the Name of Love or in the name of love, the principle is the same.

There is no need to pity the athiest or anyone else who feels gratitude. Gratitude is its own reward, a self-fueling cycle of awareness, appreciation, and action.  A person who is truly grateful is open to receive and willing to repay, with or without a named god to thank for it. The universal principle of gratitude doesn't recognize labels like theist/athiest, believer/non-believer. Like the sun that shines on both good and evil and the rain that falls on the just and unjust (Matthew 5:45), the joys of a grateful life are available to everyone.

That's something we can all be grateful for.

Saved by an Estrogen Tsunami

When you pray for rain, buy an umbrella.

I asked the universe to rain on me and end the creative drought I found myself in. Salvation came in torrents, waves of beautiful, quenching relief that washed over me like a flood, waking me up and bringing me back to life.

I went to a women's retreat this past weekend. We called it a Goddess Weekend, but I like the name a friend from Twitter used for a women's outing - an estrogen tsunami. (Thanks, @micrathene!)

This tsunami was made up of woman of all ages and stages of life. There were the just barely eighteens, the young mother suckling her son, the single, the married, the divorced, the mothers and grandmothers. Some were healthy and robust; some were battling illnesses. Some were happy and cheerful; some were seeking solace. It would be hard to find a more diverse group. Yet among them all there was a common thread of strength, creativity, survival.

How can I tell you how good it was to be in the company of these women? We laughed and talked and told stories. We shared a powerful ritual in which the maiden, the mother, and the crone used us to tell the stories and teach the lessons we needed to hear. We made food together and cleaned up together. We danced and celebrated being sexy and fun. We loaded our own gear in and out and hooked up our own electronics and backed our own cars in and out of the woods. It was fun, but most of all, it was healing. Whatever the cause of my creative drought, the beautiful, wild, soaking rain of my sisters' company has put it to rest.

In honor of the estrogen tsunami, I'll share some photos I took this weekend. Water is a favorite subject for me and my camera, and the light and patterns of the creek flowing over the rocks just fascinated me. Maybe it reminded me of the way we women flow through life...over rocks and jagged edges, under, over, and around obstacles, sometimes in a flood, sometimes in a trickle, but we keep moving, moving, moving. Along the way, we cleanse, heal, soothe, refresh, nourish...when needed, we reshape, remove, and destroy. We are strong, even when our touch is tender.

Rush on, sisters...rush on.

Humility, Gratitude, and Friendship

I never cease to be amazed at the revelations and lessons life offers...and what a slow learner I can be.

When I fell and injured my arm last week, I was with two friends I dearly love.  I know, too, that they love me. They made their love a verb by making sure I was cared for and working together to get me back to the office, to the ER, and back to connect with my daughter (who, along with her boyfriend, verbed her love, too).  Both friends offered to drive me home, one following in another car so my car could get back to my house, too.  I did everything I could to keep them from having to make that trip, even though they were more than willing. 

Why?  On the surface, the answer is I didn't want them to have to make a forty mile round trip on a Friday night.  But if I'm honest, I know there's something more, something in me that makes me just about willing to stand on my head in poo before I let someone just help me like that. 

Fast forward to yesterday.  I had to be in the office and my steady stream of pain meds meant I shouldn't drive.  Daughter got me there but had to work last night, so I needed a ride home.  That meant I had to call on the same friends from whom I had turned down the ride on Friday.  One was working from home that afternoon; the other had plans for a holiday outing with her work team.  Both willingly and graciously agreed to help anyway.  But here's the thing:  I turned them down on Friday when they were all ready and lined up to take me home without having to jump through too many hoops.  When I finally swallowed my stubborn pride and false sense of independence and called on them, it meant a change of plans and extra trips.  The friend who ended up bringing me home had to bring her son out with her on a rainy, foggy night after dark, even though she doesn't see well at night.  The other was "on call" when she should have been free to just enjoy her party.

Humility and gratitude are favorites lessons of the Universe. I believe them to be among the most important spiritual values we can possess...and I still fall so short.  Humbled by the reminder that I have much work to do, grateful for friends who love me anyway, I stand once more in awe and wonder...and sheepish chagrin at my own foolishness.

The Perfect Score: Thanksgiving - 1, Gratitude - 364

Why do we only have one day a year set aside for giving thanks? I used to ask that question and often said that every day should be Thanksgiving. But I've changed my mind. I think one Thanksgiving Day is enough. What we need more of are Gratitude Days.

Thanks and Gratitude are related but they're not the same. Thanks is the daughter of Gratitude, and the granddaughter of Awareness. Along with her sister, Humility, Thanks is the natural descendant of the true gran dames of a rich, joyous life.

When we say "thank you" for something, we are acknowledging a gift, a blessing, a current state. It's a nod to the universe that says, "Yep...I got it...and I know it's good." Giving thanks is a good thing - the right thing - to do, but the real power comes from gratitude.

Gratitude is a state of being, the result of awareness, and is the doorway through which the gifts and blessings we are so thankful for enter into our lives. To be grateful is to be open, to choose an arms-flung-wide-in-wonder way of walking through the world, open to experience, to receiving all there is to feel and do and know.

A beautiful website, Gratefullness.org, refers to gratefullness as, "...the simple response of our heart to this life in all its fullness," and adds, "The practice of gratefulness moves us in four directions: It restores courage, inspires generosity, reconciles relationships, and has the potential to heal our Earth." (Please visit Brother David's website and learn more about what Gratefullness.org is doing to move the world in those four directions.)

Gratitude starts with awareness...not filtered awareness of "the good things in our lives," but full awareness, without judgment, of All There Is and our place among that All. When we practice conscious awareness, we see the world differently. As Dr. Wayne Dyer says, "When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change." When we choose to be aware of All, All opens up to us, and we are the recipients of more gifts than we could possibly imagine. Grateful eyes see beauty everywhere.

I think the score is perfect. One day set aside to practice thanksgiving is enough...as long as we spend the other 364 days each year practicing gratefullness. In the words of Dag Hammerskjold, "For all that has been - thanks. For all that will be - yes."

Here's to one day of, "Thank you!" surrounded by 364 days of, "Yes!"

Stop the perfecution!

Oh, the power of a typo now and then!

I read an email post by my friend Raventalker today about perfection and our obsession with it. The subject line read was "Perfectuion." With the addition of the mistyped letter U, my mind read, "Perfecution," and I thought, "What a GREAT word!"

There are areas of my life wherein I'm anything but a perfectionist. There are other areas where my desire...some would say obsession...with getting it "right" all but paralyzes me. I become my own worst enemy, persecuting myself for failures large and small, real and imagined...anything short of perfection. "Perfecution" is the "perfect" word for the act of persecuting oneself for lack of perfection. I'm adopting it immediately!

Along with my new word, I'm adopting a renewed committment to not "perfecuting" myself so much. Perfection is wonderful as a goal; it pretty much stinks as a standard. Gratitude is being able to accept and enjoy what is, as is, without reservation. That includes me. I am enough.

Thanks, Raventalker, for both the wisdom of your words and the unintended gift of one little typo - a small imperfection that led to the perfect word and a perfect reminder to see the world - including myself - through grateful eyes. Grateful eyes see beauty everywhere.

The road to yes

I often have days when my mind flits from one topic to another all day. Today was one of them, and my mental transitions made a funky pattern of twists and turns that left me filled to the brim with gratitude and brought me back here to talk about it. Follow me for a bit and you'll see what I mean...

This morning, I left the house a little late but in enough time to get to work by 8:00 AM. For some reason, traffic was insane today and I ended up getting to work closer to 8:15. It made me think about how easy my morning commute usually is and how what I called "insane" this morning was nothing more than a slight slow-down. People in Atlanta, a mere hour and a half from here, would throw back their heads in maniacal laughter to hear me complain about traffic in Chattanooga on any day. Thoughts of Atlanta traffic removed any desire I had to complain about a little congestion on my way to work this morning.

As I was thinking these thoughts, I watched a driver playing dodge-and-dash, trying to get ahead of the car in front of him, to scoonch up just a little bit more, to get where he was going faster. He passed me on the right, one hand in a death grip on the wheel, the other clutching coffee and cell phone. We ended up stopped at the same red lights and I was right beside him as he made his exit...which is odd because I wasn't doing any of that dodging and dashing, just going with the flow, and I arrived at the same time. I was glad I didn't have to work that hard.

Thinking about working hard reminded me that I had a pretty full day ahead of me. When I got to work, the guy in the next cube greeted me with, "Hey, welcome back!" Not that I'd been away - I was in the office yesterday. He just always seems to have a cheerful good morning phrase at the ready and uses them freely. I appreciate the nice start he gives my day.

Nice...that reminded me of how nice it was to stop by the Election Comission yesterday to do my early voting and not have to wait in line. There were only four people ahead of me. Those four people were elderly; although they moved a little slower, needed a little more time and a bit of help, they were there, making their voices heard in the election process. I felt really happy to be there, taking part with them in an election of so much historical significance. I still remember quite clearly the "Whites Only" signs on the little cafes in town where my dad stopped for coffee. I remember the first time I had black classmates in my elementary school. I have friends my age who, as children, had their houses fire-bombed because their parents were active in the civil rights movement. If I remember that much, what did those beautiful old people remember? How different is our world from when they were young? Regardless of who you vote for, seeing Barack Obama's name on that ballot and knowing that it is entirely possible that he may be the next President of the United States...knowing that he had to fight a hard battle with a female candidate to get that far...has to make you think about how far we've come. We still have much work to do in combating racism, sexism, and all forms of discrimination, but I couldn't help pausing for a moment to just soak it in before I slipped my ballot in to be counted.

Counted...that reminds me of one of my favorite quotes:

Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted. (Albert Einstein)

I can't help but think when I read those words of just how full and rich my life is with things that really count. I have all I need, much of what I want, and the means to get what I don't have if I'm willing to work for it. I have love, friendship, meaningful work, blue skies, rain, stars, sunshine, babies laughing...everything this beautiful world has to offer. I can slow down and go with the flow. I have a voice in my government and the means and will to exercise it. I have an active, agile mind and I can share my thoughts with you through the miracle of language and electricity and your own intelligent, inquiring mind reaching out, exploring. We may never meet, but you are inside my head and we are engaged and connected.

I think about how grateful I am for all of this and more...and I remember two more quotes by men who must have felt the same welling of gratitude and wonder, and who left their words behind as a gift, a reminder:

You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might also pray in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance. - Kahlil Gibran (1883 - 1931)

For all that has been, thanks. For all that will be, yes. - Dag Hammarskjold (1905 - 1961)

Yes!

I am so rich - are you?

Good morning! I don't have a lot of time to write this morning. It's 6:47 am and I'm running behind, trying to get ready for work. You know the drill...get up in the morning, bathe, dress, find all your stuff, grab some breakfast, commute for 45 minutes to an hour, work at least eight hours, maybe through lunch, commute back, look at all the stuff you didn't do before you left that morning, push it aside, start dinner... Yeah, you know the drill.

Wow! I am SO rich!

There are so many people who don't have a reason to set a clock in the morning, no job to go to...or maybe they have a job that's mind-numbingly dull or back-breaking hard...or one where no one appreciates them...or that doesn't pay them enough. There are parents who work sick and who can't afford to buy medicine...children who go to school hungry...people without health insurance who just don't go to the doctor because there's no way they can afford to pay for it. And there are people for whom all of this is a foreign language because they can't even imagine a world where everyone's work isn't back breaking and where the best you can hope for is enough to eat today...maybe.

Yes, I am rich...so rich I can't count it all. And I feel like a schmuck when I think of all the times I complain about something I don't have. Because let's face it...I don't need anything I don't already have. I'm clothed, sheltered, fed, employed, medicated as needed, and loved. Wealthy beyond my wildest dreams, I tell you, and grateful beyond words.

I registered my blog with Blog Action Day and the topic is poverty. I know poverty intimately; I've been there...not so much financial poverty (although I've seen my share of days with less-than-abundant resources), but poverty of the spirit, the kind that keeps you poor, destitute, and broken no matter how much money you have. And I know that, as odd as it may seem, one of the best ways to break the cycle of spiritual poverty is to act rich...to give away what you think you don't have. Tired? No energy? Do something for someone. No money? Give some away...even a nickle in someone's expired parking meter. Running low on food? Invite a friend to share your sandwich at lunch. For those of us who have so much - and that's just about everyone reading this blog - we have opportunities every day to enrich the lives of others while feeding our own sense of wealth, of gratitude, of enough.

I'm going to hustle my butt up from here and go to work now. We're having a food drive at work and I'm going to take some canned goods to work with me. As I pack each can into the box, I'll add a little blessing. "May you be blessed with riches beyond your wildest dreams."

Just like me.

Making Volkswagens in Chattanooga...

...and making dreams come true.

Humbling, awe-inspiring moments of pure gratitude come at the oddest times and from the least likely sources.

I was shopping in a local Goodwill store today when the news broke that Chattanooga had been chosen as the site for a new Volkswagen plant. The facility is expected to provide about 2,000 new jobs between now and when the first sedans roll out sometime in 2011. All the employees of the store cheered - loud, happy, "Praise Jesus!" cheers - at the news. One woman was literally running toward the back to tell other employees, her face lit up like Christmas. You could feel the energy in the room change almost immediately. The whole place was suddenly full of potential, of possibilities, of hope.

I have a good job, one that pays me well and offers me all kinds of opportunities for personal and professional fulfillment. I forget just how wonderful that is sometimes. Seeing the excitement on those folks' faces and feeling the fresh hope wash over them humbled me, inspired me, and filled me with gratitude for my work and the opportunities I've had.

Chattanooga offers lots of jobs in information-based industries, call centers, insurance companies, hospitals, and the like. If you have those skills you can usually work and, while the salary may not be the greatest, you'll likely have access to decent benefits. But if you lack the education and skills for those opportunities, your choices are pretty limited. Hotels, restaurants, tourist attractions, and retail offer limited hours at incredibly low wages, usually with few, if any, benefits. When benefits are offered, they often end up being out of reach for some of the people who need them most. Could you support yourself and your family on seven dollars an hour? What if you had to pay a health insurance premium out of that? The prospect of 2,000 good paying jobs with decent benefits is a shining beacon of hope for those whose skills aren't likely to land them jobs at Unum or Cigna.

I'm glad Chattanooga got the Volkswagen contract. I'm glad that a couple thousand Chattanoogans will have a chance at a better life. I'm happy that some of those who remain in low-paying jobs in the service, retail, and hospitality sectors will benefit from the overall economic boost all those new jobs will bring. Most of all, I'm grateful for the reminder of just how good I have it.

Thanks. A lot. Again.

The perfect quote...

...to follow up my last post:

"The universe loves gratitude. You cant be grateful and unhappy at the same time" - Louise Hay

Yep...what she said.

The Chicken or the Egg?

"I am not grateful because I am rich. I am rich because I am grateful." - Me

There are many situations in this world where the question of, "Which came first?" might be difficult to answer. The pairing of gratitude and abundance is not one of them. I am convinced beyond all doubt that gratitude definitely comes first. Gratitude creates abundance.

It's the stuff of parables, fables, and fairy tales. The rich man has everything yet, without gratitude, his spirit remains poor. The poor man has little but his grateful heart soars and his life is full and rich in ways the ungrateful never know.

Gratitude begins with awareness - awareness of the good things in our lives, large and small, and a conscious decision to express our gratitude for all that we have. Most of us aren't habitually grateful. The good news is that we can learn. And when we do, we open doors to abundance and fullness that we didn't know existed. A grateful heart creates an attitude of abundance, and that inner reality manifests as outward reality. We don't just feel richer. We truly draw more and more good things into our lives. We grow richer with every thank you.

Creating any new habit takes time, but it's an investment that pays unlimited returns. Make the investment. Try this for a year and see what happens: Start a journal - I've heard it called a "gratitude journal" but I like to call it, "My Overflowing Book of Good Things." Every night before you go to sleep, write down five things you are grateful for. What? You can't name five things you're grateful for? Yes, you can - even if one of them is, "I'm glad I only have to come up with five." or, "I'm glad I'm ending this crazy day instead of starting it!" Every morning, start a new page with the date and the numbers one through five down the side, ready to be filled in at the end of the day. As you go through your day, make mental notes or jot down things for which you are grateful, no matter how small. Be faithful. Do it every morning and every night.

Here's what I predict will happen: You will become more and more aware of things that enrich your life right now. You'll spend less time thinking about what you don't have and more time enjoying what you do. You'll grow happier, calmer, a little bit less invested in the rat race. Over time, your awareness will expand to be grateful for things you never even thought of. Along the way, you'll experience a sweeter, juicier, tastier life. At some point it will occur to you that a lot of good things have been happening to you lately, and that your life is really good. One day, you'll be on your way to work or running errands. You'll be stopped at a traffic light and glance around at other vehicles and their drivers. You'll see their faces - scowling, angry, half-awake - and you'll notice that, in contrast, you're wearing a slight smile, naturally and for no apparent reason. And you'll think, "I am so rich."

And you'll be right.

Things I am grateful for right this minute...

1. My class this week. I taught a presentation skills class four mornings this week to a group of eight guys at work. It was a wonderful experience! They were all sincere, honest, and willing to hold themselves and each other accountable and do the uncomfortable and difficult work of putting themselves on the line in front of their peers. I was on top of my game this week, too, and felt really good about the class. What a joy it is to have a job I'm good at and to know that others benefit from what I do.
2. My daughter's blog posts this week. Amy (or Amybeth as she is known to many) is an excellent writer so her posts are enjoyable to read, but it's her insights that amaze me. We don't always see eye-to-eye (as she likes to say, "If it's not one thing, it's your mother!), but she provides a whole different perspective that is so valuable. Her honesty is delightful and I love her more than breath.
3. My husband. Always. The man I was destined to walk through whatever we have left in this life with. He is a big, strong, powerful man who chooses to walk gently on the earth. He chooses to love, actively and visibly. And he chooses to love me. I am blessed beyond words.
4. Cottage cheese and mandarin oranges. A simple, mundane pleasure that just makes my day.
5. My boss, Teresa. She has a lot of good qualities, but one of her best is that she is faithful to say thank you for the work we do, to praise when it's deserved, and to pass on the praise of others. It makes work a much better place to be.
6. This computer and the ability to use it. I can reach out and touch friends and strangers. I can reach out and grab knowledge. I can be entertained. I can be productive. I can be silly. This is all good. Really, really good.
7. Plans to get away with my husband this weekend. If you want to know why, see #3 above.
8. The book "Simple Abundance" by Sarah Ban Breathnacht. It's an absolute delight and a beautiful map for the year long journey into your own authentic heart.
9. Sleep. I've been making a real effort to go to bed earlier these days, targeting 10:30 as my bedtime. I find that I feel better in the mornings, and that I start looking forward to bedtime around 9:45.
10. Music. I am surrounded by it and it enriches my life in so many ways.

For all this and more, I give thanks right now. Life is good.