I find the more grateful I am, for all of my life, the more I can truly experience it for someone else. The more I can have faith in what is happening, rather than what I think should be happening, I am grateful. I want to sing to you some of what I am grateful for. Here is just the beginning, just the very beginning, of my shameless song of gratitude:

I am grateful for my husband, whose face shines brighter than the sun; for the shape of my son's face; for my daughter in hot pink cowboy boots and Superman pajamas; for a friend who loves me for who I am; for a mother who is willing to try again; for a father who taught me unconditional Love; for a sister who isn't afraid to be who she is on this planet; for a brother who loves with all of his heart; for a home that has a bathroom with bright orange walls; for the mountain outside my window; for my body as it is; for a church that holds my dance; for a warm plate of Saag Paneer; for the Goodwill comfy black cords that I am wearing right now; for teachers who tighten the container for me so I can go deeper; for a rich cup of tea; for having a memory of celebrating Diwali in India; for the woman I sat next to on the shuttle this morning; for books; for being a witness to a child who is learning to love himself for who he is; for the smell of a Russian Olive tree; for the softness of Ollie's fur under my hand; for fun distractions like American Idol; for a brownie with mint chocolate chip ice cream; for all of the people I teach and who teach me; and for the simple, ecstatic, painful gift of being alive. A gift that I can repay by Loving Life. Not just the parts that work for me, like when my flight goes out when it is scheduled. But Loving Life when I am not heading to where I thought I was going. But when where I am headed is more than enough.

 

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