Wow - have I really come to the end of this little journey? And did a 30-day journey really take me almost 60 days to complete? My next posting will be an ode to my good friend procrastination.
I've been grateful for many little things along this path, and it's been testament to the fact that the things in life that really strike us and make us feel happy aren't always the big things. Maybe if we stop searching for the BIG happy things in life and focus on the little things that are always around us, never failing to shine, we'll slowly figure out how MUCH there is to be happy about.
But I'd be remiss if I didn't say, on day #30, that I'm also so, so very grateful to have BIG things in my life, too. The thing is, it's hard to even say how grateful I am because it's immeasurable. It's way too big for words on a screen.
To have friends and family who love and listen and support is such luck. As it turns out, I've got the greatest people in my life. It's almost like I got to line up everyone in the world and hand-pick the best ones.
I've also been really lucky to have had the opportunities I've had in life. Everyone has challenges, but really, mine have been pretty small. I've never been hungry, homeless, debilitated, injured or truly sick. I've never lost a child or a parent or a good friend. I'll take the sadnesses in my life any day because I know how grateful I am that they aren't worse.
My gratitude for these big things so huge it really feels like awe.
So, I will hereby end this string of posts by saying thank you, thank you, thank you to those who have contributed to the things, big and small, that have made this little corner of the world shine brighter.
Thank you.
November 27, 2008
November 26, 2008
Gratitude Day #29: The Blog Edition
Along the way, I've realized that I'm also very grateful for this blog and for the couple of you out there who check in once in a while to read it.
Thanks.
Thanks.
Gratitude Day #28: The Stack of Books Edition
Almost nothing makes me happier than a stack of books waiting to be read. 
And I especially love it when people I love share their faves with me.
November 25, 2008
Gratitude Day #27: The Shocker Edition
I'm grateful to be able to shock and stun my friends and family by telling them that this weekend I have a column on faith in our town's paper.
Yes, you heard me. Faith. Me. Writing about it.
I just wish I could see your jaws hanging open.
I'm writing about this little journey of gratitude that I've been on and that you have all witnessed.
I'll post a link if it's accessible in the on-line version of the paper.
Until then, you can all marvel at my newfound standing as a spiritual guru. And at the fact that clearly our newspaper will let anyone in.
Yes, you heard me. Faith. Me. Writing about it.
I just wish I could see your jaws hanging open.
I'm writing about this little journey of gratitude that I've been on and that you have all witnessed.
I'll post a link if it's accessible in the on-line version of the paper.
Until then, you can all marvel at my newfound standing as a spiritual guru. And at the fact that clearly our newspaper will let anyone in.
November 23, 2008
Gratitude Day #26: The Sam Edition
The last week has been so, so busy that I haven't had time to be grateful, much less to write about it!
Every day he protects us from the onslaught of school buses and garbage trucks that shark the neighborhood, just waiting to attack.
So today, I'm going to write a bit of long-overdue gratitude for this guy:
Every day he protects us from the onslaught of school buses and garbage trucks that shark the neighborhood, just waiting to attack.It is only because of his ferocious bark and clear physical prowess that the rascally squirrels in our yard don't stage a hostile take over of our house.
Thank goodness he is here to perform a background check on every man, woman and child that we naively let in the door.
And the mailman. Have I mentioned the mailman? Really, Sam will tell you, he is a burglar in disguise who comes back day after day to infiltrate our house, only to be scared away each day by a ferocious black and white blur.
Yes, Sam shoulders the weight of these tasks so that we humans can remain blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks around every corner.
He takes his job very seriously, and we are so grateful.
Sam, we appreciate you, buddy. Good boy.
November 14, 2008
Gratitude Day #25: The Football Edition
WHAT????? Did I say FOOTBALL?????
Okay, okay, I can't really say that I'm grateful for football, but I'm grateful that Eric has found something that really makes him happy and that uses his talents and that provides a home for all of the lists of stats in his head.
Okay, okay, I can't really say that I'm grateful for football, but I'm grateful that Eric has found something that really makes him happy and that uses his talents and that provides a home for all of the lists of stats in his head.
Our town's football team is playing in the playoffs at the Metrodome this afternoon. The boys will be able to listen at school because their teachers are going to tune in to the broadcast, for which E is doing color commentary at http://www.mnsportsnetwork.com/.
So, when everyone in my house is happy because of football, I guess I have to give it a nod of gratitude.
While I sneak off and take a nap...
Gratitude Day #24: The Feet Edition
Today I am grateful for my feet.
They have always taken me where I need to go.
They've run away from home when they were only six years old. They've gotten me to school on time. They've walked away from sad relationships. They've stopped-started-slowed-stopped-turned while walking alongside a toddler. They've endured being trapped in high heels, roller skates, pinchy shoes, moon boots and roller blades.
The thing is, I totally take them for granted.
Until my car is in the shop.
Which it is, and has been for three days now.
We've walked many, many miles in the last few days, my feet and I. To the kids' school, to a job site, to meditation night, to work, to the library, to the grocery store, and home from all of these places. Only last night did they finally start complaining.
Thanks, feet. I appreciate you.
And it's a good thing you're helping me build up muscle in these legs. It makes for less of a chance that they'll buckle when I get the bill for the car.
They have always taken me where I need to go.
They've run away from home when they were only six years old. They've gotten me to school on time. They've walked away from sad relationships. They've stopped-started-slowed-stopped-turned while walking alongside a toddler. They've endured being trapped in high heels, roller skates, pinchy shoes, moon boots and roller blades.
The thing is, I totally take them for granted.
Until my car is in the shop.
Which it is, and has been for three days now.
We've walked many, many miles in the last few days, my feet and I. To the kids' school, to a job site, to meditation night, to work, to the library, to the grocery store, and home from all of these places. Only last night did they finally start complaining.
Thanks, feet. I appreciate you.
And it's a good thing you're helping me build up muscle in these legs. It makes for less of a chance that they'll buckle when I get the bill for the car.
November 10, 2008
Gratitude Day #23: The No-Snow Edition
Today I am grateful that the snow we had on Friday is gone. All gone. As of 1:00pm on Friday, actually.
It was beautiful and fun and exciting, but I'm really just not ready for it.
Nor am I ready for the the snowpants,
the boots,
the shovel,
the car window scraper,
or the icy dog walks.
Not yet.
It was beautiful and fun and exciting, but I'm really just not ready for it.
Nor am I ready for the the snowpants,
the boots,
the shovel,
the car window scraper,
or the icy dog walks.
Not yet.
November 7, 2008
Gratitude Day #22: The Snow Edition
Today is a no-school day, topped with our first dusting of snow.
There are two new kids on the block, providing plenty of people to play with. Unless you're Theo, who is tortured by the fact that the two new kids are both in his class and they're both girls. Horror.
Ben, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, has befriended the girls and is spending the day outside desperately trying to ski and snowboard through 1" of wet snow.
Theo is snuggled in on the couch, reading a book and eating mandarin oranges.
Sam is running from window to window wondering when someone is going to remember that he was made to play in the snow.
And the mom in the family? She's staying in her pajamas as long as she can, drinking french press coffee from her favorite mug, and enjoying the snow-coated trees from her bubbly storm windows.
November 6, 2008
Gratitude Day #22: The Fear Edition
I'm grateful that the end is near and that the earth will start spinning the way it's supposed to in just two short months.
But two months is enough time to do some good ol' fashion down-home tearin' up of the environment and the rights of citizens.
I'm trying not to get too fearful about W's potential pardons.
But really, yikes.
But two months is enough time to do some good ol' fashion down-home tearin' up of the environment and the rights of citizens.
I'm trying not to get too fearful about W's potential pardons.
But really, yikes.
Gratitude Day #21: The Second Meditation Edition
I started a weekly meditation night at our church a couple of months ago because I am a terrible meditator. I have a bad case of "beginner's mind." I can't quiet the inner workings, no matter how long I sit in silence.
But I know that meditation is great and I really want to make it work. So I exercised my presidential powers and declared Wednesday night our official meditation night. I really look forward to the mid-week silence, the quiet, candle-lit room, the chance to sit with people I love and experience this thing together.
My mind looks forward to it, too and plans all sorts of things to chatter away about while we're supposed to be silent and finding the space "between." While everyone else in the room is deep inside themselves and finding peace, my mind dredges up the things that are bothering it most, and we sit in silence and "process." It's very productive time for me, but it's not meditation.
Last night I went to meditation night feeling low and defeated and sad. It had been a rough day of inner work and I was looking forward to the quiet time to let my mind absorb and process (and pretend to meditate.)
It was a big turnout for us...six people in all...and two of our friends who have suffered great losses this week were there. One was a man who found out two weeks ago that his sister had cancer and she died within a week. The other was a woman who ran for a state office and lost yesterday, after a very gruelling campaign.
I was so full of my own sadness that I had to approach them each cautiously, in case touching their sorrow would turn me into a blubbering mess.
But...and here's where my gratitude for the day comes in...they were both so fantastically at peace with their losses. The man was bubbling over with the joy he'd experienced in the last days of his sister's life, the way she made everyone feel okay with her death, and the fact that the whole family had been there with her. The woman was full of relief that the campaign was over, and was so happy that she'd had one of the best experiences of her life.
I'm really grateful for these people. They weren't minimizing their losses, or hiding their pain behind a cheery face. They were peacefully seeing the beauty and joy through the pain and loss. They were standing solidly in a bad situation and still marvelling at the sunshine.
They were reminding me and my meditation-free mind not to miss the little joys, even when the sadness is big.
But I know that meditation is great and I really want to make it work. So I exercised my presidential powers and declared Wednesday night our official meditation night. I really look forward to the mid-week silence, the quiet, candle-lit room, the chance to sit with people I love and experience this thing together.
My mind looks forward to it, too and plans all sorts of things to chatter away about while we're supposed to be silent and finding the space "between." While everyone else in the room is deep inside themselves and finding peace, my mind dredges up the things that are bothering it most, and we sit in silence and "process." It's very productive time for me, but it's not meditation.
Last night I went to meditation night feeling low and defeated and sad. It had been a rough day of inner work and I was looking forward to the quiet time to let my mind absorb and process (and pretend to meditate.)
It was a big turnout for us...six people in all...and two of our friends who have suffered great losses this week were there. One was a man who found out two weeks ago that his sister had cancer and she died within a week. The other was a woman who ran for a state office and lost yesterday, after a very gruelling campaign.
I was so full of my own sadness that I had to approach them each cautiously, in case touching their sorrow would turn me into a blubbering mess.
But...and here's where my gratitude for the day comes in...they were both so fantastically at peace with their losses. The man was bubbling over with the joy he'd experienced in the last days of his sister's life, the way she made everyone feel okay with her death, and the fact that the whole family had been there with her. The woman was full of relief that the campaign was over, and was so happy that she'd had one of the best experiences of her life.
I'm really grateful for these people. They weren't minimizing their losses, or hiding their pain behind a cheery face. They were peacefully seeing the beauty and joy through the pain and loss. They were standing solidly in a bad situation and still marvelling at the sunshine.
They were reminding me and my meditation-free mind not to miss the little joys, even when the sadness is big.
November 5, 2008
Gratitude Day #20: The Meditation Edition
In which I am very, very thankful that Wednesday night is Meditation Night at church.
I need peace and quiet and the space to be all inside myself.
Hopefully I won't fall asleep.
I need peace and quiet and the space to be all inside myself.
Hopefully I won't fall asleep.
November 4, 2008
Gratitude Day #19: The Window Edition
Remember the storm windows that I was so grateful for a couple of weeks ago?
And remember those two boys I live with?
And remember those two boys I live with?
Yeah.
Today I'm grateful that the football didn't go through both layers of glass.
November 3, 2008
Gratitude Day #18: These Moments Edition
While I was sorting through some things, I came across a note I'd jotted down about six years ago of a conversation I had with Ben, who was three.
I am so grateful to have experienced moments like these, and like most parents, I failed to write most of them down.
So I'm double grateful that I actually wrote this one on a piece of paper.
I was sitting in the back seat of the car with him, and he said,
"Mom, our hearts are broken."
"Why?"
"Because mine broke in half and went into you and yours broke in half and went into me."
My heart (or at least the half that's mine) melted right then and there at Ben's uncanny ability to sum up perfectly how love feels.
If you've had children, you know that it really does feel like half of your heart is with them all the time.
Nice to know that even if it's for a brief part of their lives, they feel the same way.
I am so grateful to have experienced moments like these, and like most parents, I failed to write most of them down.
So I'm double grateful that I actually wrote this one on a piece of paper.
I was sitting in the back seat of the car with him, and he said,
"Mom, our hearts are broken."
"Why?"
"Because mine broke in half and went into you and yours broke in half and went into me."
My heart (or at least the half that's mine) melted right then and there at Ben's uncanny ability to sum up perfectly how love feels.
If you've had children, you know that it really does feel like half of your heart is with them all the time.
Nice to know that even if it's for a brief part of their lives, they feel the same way.
November 2, 2008
November 1, 2008
Gratitude Day #17: The Sock Edition
Sam is a strange dog.
He is sweet and gentle and lets the kids sit on him and stand him up on his hind legs to "dance" with him. He's tolerant and intelligent and sometimes he's even obedient.
But my oh my is he prone to being "high energy." Even at the advanced age of ten. And when he doesn't get enough exercise, he resorts to desperate measures to get the attention of his owners.
Where desperate measures equals he eats socks.
He doesn't just chew them up like normal dogs do. No, he swallows them. A few days later, they are expelled, if you know what I mean.
The other night we were awakened by Sam every half hour from midnight to 3 am. Eric dragged himself out of bed and braved the chilly night air over and over and over again to let Sam out.
The next day he wouldn't eat and could barely peel himself up off the floor. All day. He looked like he was living his last moments.
Because the laws of dog require that they only have accidents on carpeted areas that are difficult to clean, he'd get up every once in a while and head into the living room to retch and cough.
He was a pitiful, sorry-souled creature.
I left the house for a while and when I came home, he greeted me at the door all waggy-tailed and happy-faced.
Not to be fooled, I instantly searched the house and promptly discovered the reason for his previously sad and sorry state.
He'd eaten not one sock, but FOUR SOCKS. Why, oh why, does a dog feel that he needs to go on such a high-fiber diet???
I have dragged you through this slightly tasteless story to tell you that I am grateful that it's over. With a capital "O." Because Queen Kristin has declared a "no socks are to be found anywhere except on feet and in tightly closed laundry baskets" law in her kingdom. And I'm sure her subjects will obey, because they always do.
He is sweet and gentle and lets the kids sit on him and stand him up on his hind legs to "dance" with him. He's tolerant and intelligent and sometimes he's even obedient.
But my oh my is he prone to being "high energy." Even at the advanced age of ten. And when he doesn't get enough exercise, he resorts to desperate measures to get the attention of his owners.
Where desperate measures equals he eats socks.
He doesn't just chew them up like normal dogs do. No, he swallows them. A few days later, they are expelled, if you know what I mean.
The other night we were awakened by Sam every half hour from midnight to 3 am. Eric dragged himself out of bed and braved the chilly night air over and over and over again to let Sam out.
The next day he wouldn't eat and could barely peel himself up off the floor. All day. He looked like he was living his last moments.
Because the laws of dog require that they only have accidents on carpeted areas that are difficult to clean, he'd get up every once in a while and head into the living room to retch and cough.
He was a pitiful, sorry-souled creature.
I left the house for a while and when I came home, he greeted me at the door all waggy-tailed and happy-faced.
Not to be fooled, I instantly searched the house and promptly discovered the reason for his previously sad and sorry state.
He'd eaten not one sock, but FOUR SOCKS. Why, oh why, does a dog feel that he needs to go on such a high-fiber diet???
I have dragged you through this slightly tasteless story to tell you that I am grateful that it's over. With a capital "O." Because Queen Kristin has declared a "no socks are to be found anywhere except on feet and in tightly closed laundry baskets" law in her kingdom. And I'm sure her subjects will obey, because they always do.
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