Thank you for tahini dressings.

Thank you for when my eyes opened while meditating to meet Peaches’ look of love. 

Thank you for a morning chat with the ladies by the clubhouse. 

Thank you for books on hold at the library. The first one ready is Cat’s Cradle. I don’t know much about it but enjoyed one of Vonnegut’s books long ago. 

Thank you for library networks that make so many books accessible.

Thank you for the inspiration found in reads. Books can be like firework shows for the brain. They fill you with wonder and leave you in awe.

Thank you for trust, which seems to require communication and vulnerability. I am not sure how trust will take root without a leap (of faith?) closer toward the person or thing to be trusted. (I mean, how can it take root from a safe distance?)

Thank you for when we try to be there for others through difficult times, even when we do so awkwardly and imperfectly.

Thank you for a good workout Monday. I was sore for two days.

Thank you for when being boring doesn’t seem dull.

Thank you for contact with friends that reveals how diverse the world is and opens you to accept differences. It also raises appreciation for the gift of compatibility: you are less inclined to take for granted shared interests and values.

Thank you for new leaves on Jedidiah.

Thank you for a sewing kit to repair Peaches’ pillow.

Thank you for new friends.

Thank you for silent friends who are deeply loved regardless of what they do or don’t say.

Thank you for friends who remain friends with no physical involvement.

Thank you for friends of different ages, colors, backgrounds, cultures, sexes, beliefs, orientations, etc. They water my kindness, awareness, and interest. They feed happiness—if my social circle were restricted to women just like me, life might be solitary. Respectful connections also mold me into a more capable partner.

Thank you for us being more forgiving and accepting.

Thank you for more of us taking action to reduce our carbon footprints.

Thank you for confidence and calm to feel that life isn’t forcing me to be any certain way.  Thank you for when there is time to research and take conscious action. Thank you for when there is power to consider options, space to weigh decisions, experience to make deliberate steps. 

Thank you for intentional living (not that this is my way but it is a healthy way that I strive for).

Thank you for efforts to live with intention.

Thank you for life flowing on. If it isn’t how we would choose, sometimes its meaning and beauty are enhanced by accepting how it is.

Thank you for vacations that are not escapes but are rests or adventures.

Thank you for people who choose zero emissions vehicles, like my neighbor who is leasing a Bolt even though they were recalled because the batteries may catch fire, or something like that.

Thank you for how fun it is to practice speaking French.

Thank you for sun salutations.

Thank you for window coverings soon, after months in a sort of fishbowl. 

Thank you for simple lives.

Thank you for drama free relationships.

Thank you for Bob down the hill who loves to bark at Peaches. Thank you for his big wrinkly blue head and stubby wagging tail. Thank you for how he always stays behind the short gate to his yard, even though he could easily hop over it. Thank you for how everyone can see the choice Bob doesn’t make. It’s something to talk about when walking alongside neighbors down the hill past Gary’s small fence and large dog.

Thank you for typos that form new nonsense words.

Thank you for bedtime.

Thank you for the care that we give ourselves.

Thank you for the DJ of my dreams.

Thank you for good nights and happy weekends.

Thank you for health. I wish the best of it on you!

Thank you for when friends come easily. Thank you for text messages and phone calls and invites and chats. Thank you for common interests. Thank you for comfort around others. Thank you for love for them. Thank you for looking back to see how far I’ve come by working on the insides and not worrying so much about outsides, not forcing life. It has more meaning now. Connecting with people is fulfilling.

Thank you for when I don’t try to force myself to change and end up changing (growing) naturally. That’s what has happened with my shyness. It’s still there but much better.

Thank you for shyness and introversion being compatible with loving others. Thank you for work-arounds that compensate for shortcomings. One of the reasons I’ve loved living in dense areas (like Manhattan and Westwood) is that it’s impossible not to connect with people in urban areas, not matter how shy you are or how much of a homebody. That’s also a great thing about life in Cornell. Running into neighbors is inevitable. All you have to do is spend some time walking outside. So there’s less effort to make friends. And that automatic interaction is a real plus for shut-ins who happen not to be misanthropes.

Thank you for the Golden Girls theme song and for hearts full of love. Thank you for a tiny kernel of confidence that everything is alright no matter what. Thank you for special friends. Thank you for the feeling that we are not alone. Thank you for healing. Thank you for our interconnected world.  

Thank you for when we let go of punishing others for not doing or being how we expect, and instead accept and appreciate them as they are.

Thank you for dogs barking in their sleep.

Thank you for my budding sudoku addiction. It’s a guilty pleasure. It won’t always be there.

Thank you for The Breaks and other cute funnies. Thank you for virtual warm blankets.

Thank you for hugs.

Thank you for a feeling of safety. Everything will be ok, regardless…

Thank you for our wishes for others to thrive.

Thank you for new options popping into my head.

Thank you for this Sunday.

Thank you for bike rides, yoga on the beach, and farmer’s market visits.

Thank you for healthy boobs.

Thank you for the inspirational stories of late bloomers.

Thank you for prayer plants. 

Thank you for a clean toilet and house.

Thank you for succumbing to sleepiness, and wishing you restful sleep and refreshed mornings.

Thank you for fasts.

Thank you for tangerine juice mixed with tart cherry juice and sparkling water.

Thank you for cool weather in the forecast.

Thank you for time to read.

Thank you for a comfy living space.

Thank you for chats with Sri Hari, how they keep me focused on a more inward, spiritual path.

Thank you for peaceful feelings.

Thank you for lady bosses with employees who enjoy working for them.

Thank you for new thoughts that came with the end of a horrible mood.

Thank you for recorded dreams to re-read and re-analyze.

Thank you for when I have patience to let Peaches take her time on walks.

Thank you for long distance drives that go smoothly (no accidents, etc.), even if they’re just into the city.

Thank you for an overcast, cool day that reminds me of the weather here growing up.

Thank you for the gentle sounds of the ceiling fan.

Thank you for awareness that it’s inaccurate to call myself weird. I’m just me.

Thank you for a few mornings ago when Peaches let me wrap both arms around her and cuddle her like the world was ending.

Thank you for the salty sweet creamy frosting on Veggie Grill carrot cake.

Thank you for Peaches feeling better. (She started to be unwell a few hours after nabbing a mystery treat from the ground outside.) Thank you for the urgent care vet in TO and the doctor and techs who helped her.

Thank you for confidence that I’'ll feel better again, too.

Thank you for when the clear blue cloudless sky transforms into a twinkling inky expanse. 

Thank you for the variety of succulents that look science fiction but are real.

Thank you for fall weather.

Thank you for a new lady friend suggesting we play pickleball. Thank you for memories of another dear friend who shares this pickleball player’s name. 

Thank you for home popped popcorn. 

Thank you for bandages.

Thank you for love songs and love letters.

Thank you for growing kindness.

Thank you for plant dreams.

Thank you for the first time using the oven. A kabocha baked in there. It may become taquitos, or dog food, or a simple snack. (And it’s good that the oven wasn’t used before today, because it does warm the whole house!)

Thank you for the kabocha whistling when it’s oven time ended.

Thank you for the most incredible rainbow yesterday morning. It was like the sky’s happy hangover after a night of lightning, thunder, and rain. 

Thank you for two gal pals both trying to help me find love. Just knowing that they care and think of me as suitable for that sort of thing touches me, even if I’m still only ready to find friends.

Thank you for the Rich Roll Podcasts again. Thank you for how much learning and inspiration he offers so many people.

Thank you for sweet and loving friends.

Thank you for the extraordinary community here. I don’t want to leave. Morning walks and talking with neighbors feels whole. Wherever I live, I would like to be part of a community.

Thank you for the mobile home park even considering my request to move the tiny there. They haven’t said yes or no yet, and there are no affordable lots for sale at the moment. But I’m hopeful. If they refuse, there are still multiple options to explore. 

Thank you for organizations that help those in need. Thank you for the folks who start, run, staff, and support those orgs.

Thank you for crickets chirping outside the window.

Thank you for birds drinking the dew off my car this am.

Thank you for visions of togetherness.

Thank you for healing meditations.

Thank you for patience.

Thank you for 1 Corinthians 13.

Thank you for true love.

Thank you for videos like the one above that help me regain some stability when it feels like I’m coming unhinged.

Thank you for honesty.

Thank you for a couch to relax on.

Thank you for everyone who made it possible for me to have a space that is slowly becoming more comfortable and homey (my dad, mom, sister, Elyse, JP, their team, people who make appliances and flooring and windows, people who grow trees for wood, truck drivers, sales associates, LA County workers in the field and behind desks, electricians and contractors and landscapers, hardware store stockers, handymen, owners of independent furniture companies and their employees, storage unit people, truck rental people, the water company. I should go on but my head is hurting.)

Thank you for how easy it is to order books from the library. The one I just turned in is 1Q84. Not my favorite Murakami novel due to so much violence and violent sex, but still interesting and thought provoking. The main characters I loved, especially Aomame. She and I can be happy alone for similar reasons.

Thank you for Peachy’s first smoothie today (watermelon, cherries, and water) to cool her down from the inside.

Thank you for the latest addition to our family—Chester the fern. I hope I don’t accidentally kill you, Chester.

Thank you for the book Being Mortal by Atul Gawande. I highly recommend that book, especially if you or someone you know is mortal. Another book I’m excited to read, as a mortal, is Arthur Kleinman’s Soul of Care (on caregiving for someone ill, I believe). It’s waiting for me at the library.

Thank you for comfort.

Thank you for vegan cheeseburgers.

Thank you for more friend visits soon.

Thank you for friends.

Thank you for the self esteem to realize that I don’t deserve to be put down or insulted. I don’t deserve your anger.

Thank you for the insight to realize that we teach others how to love us through our interactions with them, by letting them know things like the above.

Thank you for the awareness that those who do lash out in anger are doing so because they are suffering. I hope they find a way through, a path beyond that suffering. I hope they are able to care for their feelings. I hope the same for me because I’ve been struggling with negative emotions lately too.

Thank you for resources from the past, like a notebook full of positive affirmations, to help me with this difficult spot.

Thank you for new resources, like my first session with a therapist nearby tomorrow afternoon.

Thank you for caring enough to read this. I hope you find freedom from what troubles you, and that more and more good things come to you.

Thank you for ramen night.

Thank you for visits from friends.

Thank you for frozen watermelon slushies with lime and mint on hot days.

Thank you for when there is phone and internet here at the house. Thank you for when there isn’t, so I get a break from it.

Thank you for unlimited therapy sessions covered by insurance with a $15 co-pay, and for Elizabeth who helped me figure out how to make the first appointment today.

Thank you for the people who know me, who trust my integrity and look up to me.

Thank you for healthy options when feeling dazed, confused, delusional, etc., and unsure what to say or do. Thank you for hard work put in to be well.

Thank you for willingness to communicate and trust even when it’s risky.

Thank you for cold, clean drinking water in the fridge.

Thank you for the moonlight tonight.

Thank you for David (high school friend) and his family (wife and daughter) visiting next month around my birthday. They were nice enough to invite me with them for a day at the beach when they are in town.

Thank you for when life feels overwhelming and self-talk is there as a reminder that it isn’t always like this.

Thank you for the prospect of not having to move for a few years (we’ll see). Thank you for stability and security. Even if those are both sort of illusions in some sense, in another sense they’re sort of real.

Thank you for opportunities that take time to reveal themselves.

Thank you for Peaches’ love.

Thank you for comfy sleepwear.

Thank you for pooping on coconuts.

Thank you for quiet country nights.

Thank you for sweepy.

Thank you for chocolate.

Thank you for the neighbors in ABQ who ask about me. I miss you.

Thank you for neighbors here who make this place memorable and warm. You sustain me.

Thank you for pillows.

Thank you for goodnights. I hope you are well <3

Thank you for the thought that I need therapy because I don’t know if I am delusional, but it seems likely.

Thank you for friends who understand that my communication and interpersonal skills may be somewhat underdeveloped, but my intentions are good and I will keep trying.

Thank you for patience.

Thank you for practice sharing personal thoughts, being more open.

Thank you for new conversations with different people.

Thank you for our similarities and differences with each other.

Thank you for the instant pot, a gift from Stacey. She has given me so much (not just materially), shown love and kindness.

Thank you for lasting friendships. If it weren’t for my friends being so patient and forgiving, I wouldn’t be fortunate to know what a lasting friendship is. Thank you for their never giving up on me. I make mistakes, but I won’t give up, either. 

Thank you for those who make us better and those who are made better by us.

Thank you for Joel with LA County Public Works actually driving to the road closure, measuring the gate width, and sending pics. It’s touching when a stranger shows kindness like that. Also it’s a relief to know that the house might squeeze through that gate.

Thank you for yoga today being fun and making me feel great.

Thank you for my mouth healing, so eating and drinking aren’t painful. It may sound like I have horrible dental issues but really I don’t.

Thank you for pizza cutters.

Thank you for a thoughtful POTUS.

Thank you for the lady who took my motel reservation. She was friendly and gave a better price than online quotes. Thank you for the motel, truck, trailer, and storage lined up, and everyone who helped with them.

Thank you for prep work related to moving/house because it is a good way to overcome fears and procrastination. Also it’s a pleasure interacting socially, like today—conversations with helpful folks at LA County Public Works, LA Compost, U-Haul, and ReCover CA.

Thank you for low drama. Don’t misunderstand—arguing I love. Instead of emotionally charged, angry, or personal attacks, the best arguing is where all parties share their minds respectfully for the sake of greater understanding. Also, being overly agreeable inhibits intimacy because it blocks us from really expressing ourselves and knowing each other. Good arguing promotes expression, knowing, and thus intimacy. (I just made that up. Hopefully it’s not ridiculous.)

Thank you for hot water again and how nice it felt to have clean hair. Thank you for warm baths.

Thank you for productive days of emails and phone calls.

Thank you for the house being pretty much finished, it seems. Thank you for the luxury of dealing with trusted and respected builders, and for what a learning process it has been. Thank you for a living space that appears well suited to me. It may end up sold at some point, who knows. For now, it seems nice.

Thank you for the insight that my aesthetic preferences differ from some around me, and it doesn’t mean I have “bad taste.” Maybe I just like different things. What’s ugly, plain, or boring in certain circles may be beautiful, calming, and pleasant in others. Thank you also for aesthetic preferences that change over time.

Thank you for positive affirmations.

Thank you for persistence to make at least a tiny amount of progress each day.

Thank you for refunds and exchanges.

Thank you for realistic optimism.

Thank you again for repeated thank yous.

Thank you for uncertainty.

Thank you for pooches. Thank you for tails wagging.

Thank you for how happy my body feels after breakfast.

Thank you for a fun bike ride in perfect weather—no jacket, no puffy gloves.

Thank you for rest afterward because I overdid it.

Thank you for sore, sunburned legs and arms.

Thank you for Kayla’s chalk drawings.

Thank you for takeout and the people who make it possible.

Thank you for neighbors enjoying coffee together in the sunshine.

Thank you for my mom and sister and her Jeff all being vaccinated already, and everyone else besides them.

Thank you for moving day only one week later than originally scheduled.

Thank you for everyone I’ve met here, mostly and especially neighbors.

Thank you for daffodils.

Thank you for minimalism.

Either way, thank you for water extinguishing fire.

Thank you for a level of awareness of both my own anger and how highly contagious any anger can be.

Thank you for the elderly lady who runs up and around the arroyo with her partner following on a bike. She’s an inspiration.

Thank you for lent almost over.

Thank you for my grandma’s spirit.

Thank you for I Love Lucy playing at the dentist’s office. Little Ricky is my favorite.

Thank you for Dr. Tran wishing me well on the move.

Thank you for our dreams communicating with us.

Thank you for the Plum Village talk on forgiveness where Thich Nhat Hanh shared about the soldier in Vietnam who intentionally killed multiple innocent villagers, and they all happened to be children. The positive outcome for the soldier might anger some, but I’m grateful for the message that forgiveness is available to us all, no matter what we’ve done. That story made me a mushy snotty mess.

Thank you maybe even more for the Plum Village talk on going home to the self, connecting with the self. TNH draws such pretty circles. My eyes leaked again to hear about home and making a home for ourselves so that we can be there for others. Hopefully if you listen you will understand.

Thank you for radical spiritual leaders who go beyond the mass marketed forms of love with societally sanctioned limits (those limits give us permission to go ahead and hate on each other for this or that taboo transgression). Thank you for leaders who teach and live unlimited love and forgiveness. Thank you for the hope to become more like them with continued effort.

Thank you for the Rich Roll Podcast episode with the Sherzai doctors discussing cognitive decline, dementia, and prevention. Parts of that had me blubbering, too. 

Thank you for how quiet it is here at the condo.

Thank you for thoughtfully designed metropolitan areas.

Thank you for warm, clean shelters from heat, rain, wind, snow….

Thank you for Anita’s cookie-scone recipe.

Thank you for flashbacks.

Thank you for careful drivers.

Thank you for nursery shopping.

Thank you for living gifts to remember loved ones by.

Thank you for shared drinks.

Thank you for giving without possessiveness.

Thank you for when we help the ones we are supposed to be competing against, even if it’s in games.

Thank you for egos that don’t take themselves too seriously and aren’t all that defensive.

Thank you for easygoing comfort.

Thank you for acceptance without demands or pressure.

Thank you for viparita karani and avocado toast.

Thank you for coziness.

Thank you for presence.

Thank you for voices that are a pleasure to hear. Thank you for when words and the way they’re spoken make for enjoyable listening.

Thank you for rainbows.

Thank you for joy

Thank you for blessings.

Thank you for intimacy.

Thank you for life and laughter and love.

Thank you for yesterdays.

Thank you for today.

Thank you for tomorrow.

Thank you for spring birdsongs.

Thank you for made up words.

Thank you for quirky personalities.

Thank you for Peaches sleeping next to me. Usually she spends the night in her bed on my bed, near the foot. For some reason she got close enough for me to sneak cuddles a couple nights.

Thank you for a mood boost from wearing socks with sandals (like Jesus might, if he were here today).

Thank you for an appointment with the contractor, John, in less than four weeks to haul that gravel stuff (forgot it’s name) up to the lot. 

Thank you again for the friend who took down the for sale sign by the front gate. Not sure who did that, but it was appreciated.

Thank you for Seaspiracy coming out on Netflix soon. 

Thank you for Dr Tran making me a new nightguard that works better for sleeping.

Thank you for an extra comfy bed with soft, warm blankets.

Thank you for people here waving. They’re not just humoring me by waving back. If I don’t wave first, they usually do.

Thank you for little friendly exchanges between strangers all over the world every single day. If you added them up, they’d be enormous.

Thank you for the beloved curator behind the ten digits.

Thank you for the tidbit I learned forever ago in a social psychology class as an undergrad. Sorry if I’m messing it up: The strongest determinant of whether or not you will like someone is whether or not you think that person likes you. Awareness of that tidbit helps me to go on liking people even if I think they may not like me (because I’m not convinced that being liked is the best reason for me to like).

Thank you for yoga nidra.

Thank you for a beautiful warm sunny day.

Thank you for Ramona next door and her close knit family that supports her. Thank you for their offer to help out here after I leave.

Thank you for our neighbors who hang art in their garages. It’s fun and funky.

Thank you for Senator Pope and his passion for renewable energy.

Thank you for the reassurance that I have this beautiful place to visit, at the very least.

Thank you for the smell of frosting paired with the look of multicolored sprinkles.

Thank you for a booch after a long break. It was decaffeinated, so it’s ok. Thank you for Stacey recommending Rowdy Mermaid to me.

Thank you for the Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching (THOTBT), pages 217, 224, and 225. What’s really pleasurable is reading that kind of book a few pages a day. It’s nice not to rush through books. What’s the hurry?

Thank you for longer days. 

Thank you for life feeling easier when I care less about some of the more superficial stuff, like wearing a different outfit every day. 

Thank you for the tip to keep from passing out. Maybe I was slow to learn about it. Here it is in case you don’t know, because it may come in handy. They say that if you feel like you’re going to pass out but can’t lie down, then squeeze and release the muscles in your butt, thighs, and calves. (Also it’s kind of funny.)

Thank you for a movie night with my mom.

Thank you for a reminder that love is not selfish.

Thank you for the electrical permit submitted and approved. That seems to be the last permit required, at least for a year.

Thank you for everyone who loves Peaches.

Thank you for turmeric.

Thank you for a pleasant meeting with Sister and Moms. We were all dreading it. We had to review the inventory of everything we lost and resend it to the fire lawyers. Digging up those memories is not pleasant, but it helps to appreciate the present and to remember that material stuff doesn’t give happiness. Anyway, none of us went too far down the rabbit hole this time. For that I’m grateful.

Thank you for my efforts to let go of the idea of a dream house or a dream car or place to live, or any dream thing. Those things (in my opinion), aren’t where my dreams belong. Getting or taking or having aren’t the goals I’d prefer either. It feels like I’m programmed to have those goals as a product of this environment/society, but re-programming is possible.

Thank you for efforts to improve.

Thank you for stubborn love.

Thank you for pockets.

Thank you for Sri Hari and Jaya being in my life again after a period of absence. Thank you for uplifting and thought-provoking chats with Sri over tea at Tifa before the move. Thank you for patient, forgiving friends. Thank you for friends with similar interests.

Thank you for the art of doing nothing. It’s the title of a book that was propped up on a rock in the dirt beside the walking path. I’ve never read it. Doing nothing does seem essential, and there must be an art to doing it well.

Thank you for the only headache this week leaving quickly. Cutting back on caffeine and screen time seems to have helped. It also made it go away faster to do nothing but lie in bed listening to the humidifier and staring at the ceiling.

Thank you for friends and family, and tons of others, getting vaccinated. 

Thank you for this last forty days in the desert. 

Thank you for an adventure on the horizon.

Thank you for different ways to show love. Some of mine are probably a little bit flawed, but I try.  

Thank you for Iceland.

Thank you for labradors.

Thank you for yucca.

Thank you for reconciliation.

Thank you for bear hugs.

Thank you for 123482610.

Thank you for the quote from THOTBT reminding me of how powerful my thoughts are, “To make hell into paradise, we only need to change the mind on which it is based.”

And, “The mind of the people is the basis of paradise. With your deluded mind, you make hell for yourself. With your true mind, you make paradise. If two people come together with true mind, they make a small paradise for themselves.”

Thank you for the power to feel love and hope instead of hurt and pessimism.

Thank you for letting go of grasping.

Thank you for openness.

Thank you for rest.

Thank you for the unknown.

Thank you for rain in the forecast. 

Thank you for ethical attorneys. 

Thank you for truth. 

Thank you for less than two months until moving day. It’s bittersweet. The plan was to leave the last week of March but now I hope to leave the first or even second week of April, as late as possible to save money on lodging. I just have to be there in time to have a space on the lot ready before the house is delivered. The house is set to leave the builders April 6, and it should be in transit a week or two.

Thank you for the willingness to do scary things. Some of what scares me about the move is driving the truck with car towed on back, stopping for gas (especially if reversing is necessary), finding a place to sleep, keeping Peaches calm and comfy, unpacking and repacking and unpacking again, figuring out how to get the house past where the street is blocked off and up to its landing spot, other logistical stuff. Also, what happens if I get sick? Hopefully this is the right thing to do. If not, then may I make the best out of it and learn from it.

Thank you for small living spaces.

Thank you for animal caregivers who clean up after their pets.

Thank you for last night, lying in bed and feeling grateful/happy for peace, comfort, health, rest.

Thank you for unscented household and beauty products.

Thank you for lipstick that comes wrapped in paper like a crayon.

Thank you for dad hats.

Thank you for compostable produce bags.

Thank you for waste and recycling services. 

Thank you for reminders of what day it is by the sound of the trash truck.

Thank you for how different places and creatures on earth seem otherworldly. 

Thank you for prescient dreams. A few times lately small details of the next day popped into dreams the night before.

Thank you for family.

Thank you for support networks that are like safety nets.

Thank you for a snow free parking lot.

Thank you for a snow and ice free walkway outside our building.

Thank you for chocolate with quinoa crisps.

Thank you for John Kerry.

Thank you for clean teeth.

Thank you for ginger.

Thank you for symbolism.

Thank you for games.

Thank you for analogies.

Thank you for puzzles.

Thank you for humor.

Thank you for the sound of the word “powder” in French. 

Thank you for thoughts that tickle.

Thank you for baskets.

Thank you for when space apart brings loved ones closer in the long run.

Thank you for Marc assigning me analysis of the most interesting item on the senior survey. Every year he let me sift through thousands of responses to “What was your most meaningful learning experience at UCLA?” Imagine having access to a databank filled with touching memories and insights collected from the once-in-a-lifetime experiences of high performing diverse adults.  

Thank you for simple designs.

Thank you for hands.

Thank you for others who practice mindfulness. When someone I stalked on social media had posted a photo of a tree sign with a mindfulness saying on it, I gained appreciation for my own practice. It started me thinking of mindfulness as something real and valuable. Before seeing that, if I were meditating and a friend called to ask what I was up to, I would have said “nothing.” I didn’t think mindfulness or meditation was worth bringing up, in a way. There was a lot for me to learn about it outside of the clinical and self-help settings. I mean, I knew it mattered, but I also didn’t. Seeing someone I looked up to celebrate the very thing I practiced gave me more respect for myself.

Thank you for bird tracks through the snow under the rosebush outside our door.

Thank you for Peaches licking my hand after it was hurt (not bad).

Thank you for Adam Grant on the Rich Roll Podcast. It was interesting their discussion about us being like preachers, politicians, prosecutors, scientists, and lighthouses (in how we relate to each other). Also I’d heard of support networks but never challenge networks. What else? The importance of enjoying challenges and welcoming being wrong as an opportunity to learn. For me, attitude makes a huge difference. When I assert something with an attitude or with pride, then it’s a lot harder to embrace if I’m wrong. It helps to have a questioning and humble attitude. Some people don’t seem to listen to me when I take the less confident approach, I’ve noticed. So that’s one drawback of not sounding too self assured. But then when I do have that uncertain, humble attitude, then I don’t have to walk back so far or eat humble pie when I’m wrong. When it’s easier to accept being wrong, then it’s easier to learn and grow from mistakes. It’s a goal not to be too sure of myself. Maybe that’s sort of what AG meant by being like a (good) scientist. Or not. Whatever. Question to seek truth, and don’t invest your ego in whether you’re right or wrong.

Thank you also for what Adam Grant said about procrastination being motivated not by aversion to work but by emotion. I agree. Behind my procrastination are fears of failure, of conflict, of making the wrong decisions, of getting into a hole that I can’t dig out from, etc.

Thank you for multiple weeks without a booch.

Thank you for when my dad would make a pita sandwich and call it a Lebaneser. Thank you for when he’d tell us about a dish, “Now this is bedouin food.” Thank you for his dry sense of humor. 

Thank you for Garrison at the solar place and for the renewable energy workforce.

Thank you for when we are moved to tears in any direction. It means we’re feeling deeply, and that’s essential to being human.

Thank you for sourdough bread with chocolate.

Thank you for when we are able to give space to friends who are confused or angry, when our involvement with them in some respects seems to water unwholesome seeds. Thank you for when there is faith that all parties involved have the wisdom, patience, compassion, and strength to navigate through difficulties and come out healthier as a result.

Thank you for the capacity to change.

Thank you for seemingly healthy intimate relationships, especially ones with challenges. Thank you for the hope and inspiration they give. 

Thank you for Bunny the talking dog. Probably many more dogs could talk if they were only taught how.

Thank you for Nora in customer service at the mattress place. She cared, which uplifted my day.

Thank you for Martin with LA DRP agreeing to chat about the permit requirements and how to submit the application. Thank you for the temporary housing application submitted and approved. I had been stressing over it for such a long time. Thank you for everyone who helped with it, especially Sister and Martin.

Thank you for Covid numbers going down.

Thank you for faith.

Thank you for love, the study of love, the practice of it.

Thank you for the t-shirt slogan that Jedidiah Jenkins mentioned on the RRP, “Remember when you wanted what you currently have.” I remember when I wanted more independence, out of grad school, out of the cubicle, fewer skin problems, healthier hair, not to feel alone, a dog, a car, less anger, to share thoughts with others, to feel comfortable in my body… Just so much. Looking back brings relief.

I’m especially thinking of when I had finished grad school but couldn’t get a job near my dad and wasn’t willing to apply farther out. It was one of the tougher periods of my adult life. I was running out of money and ended up fortunate to take the option of living back with him and my mom. He was in denial of his dementia, and didn’t trust. She was beyond stressed. They both needed help. Being there allowed me to contribute some, but I still needed an income. No one would hire me—maybe it’s how I presented myself. Then a caregiving agency finally gave me a chance. I was eventually assigned to an elderly couple four days a week for just above minimum wage. (The agency added a dollar an hour to care for one extra soul.) 

Both spent their days drinking coffee, heavily medicated, in recliners aimed at the TV. The woman’s deteriorating mental state kept her from recognizing her adult son and made her husband appear as her grandmother. She’d do things like decorate her pancakes with assorted pills. She was without exception gentle and kind. The man had a sound mind and thankfully treated his wife well. But he relished in calling me their servant. He liked to tell me how many ice cubes each wanted in their drinks, stuff like that. Through their door I became a less-than person. There were better fits with others, but this situation is what I stayed with.

Anyhow, my former boss called in the middle of that job to offer back a research position, part time. I took him up on it although I’d committed to yoga teacher training on the weekends and had no intention to leave caregiving. So for a time it was caregiving Mondays through Thursdays, research Fridays, and yoga training on Saturdays and Sundays. Every evening meant returning home to heartbreak. Then as my dad grew more ill, time as a paid caregiver dwindled while hours (working mainly from home) as a researcher increased. It sounds funny to say, but maybe I didn’t have the confidence to pursue yoga teaching. Not sure if I discounted my capacity for a fulfilling career, if teaching yoga wasn’t fulfilling in the right way, or if starting something new seemed daunting. Plus I had an open invitation back to the cubicle full time with a decent paycheck. Later circumstances gave me the chance for time off from office life, too. So much has changed in a good way, despite great loss. Now I look to gain inner health and empowerment that I’ve never had. To rest the constant feeling of being rushed. To calm the belief that I’m not good enough to make a difference or have a fulfilling vocation. There are prospects for a more stable home life. I feel determined to live responsibly and to support myself in fulfilling work, even if it means taking a break to reset.

Thank you for faith that if a connection is real, then a pause for clarity will only strengthen it.

Thank you for efforts to do what is best despite difficulties. Thank you for attempts to lay a healthy foundation for a future relationship.

Thank you for faith that everything will be ok no matter what tomorrow brings. (Honestly, one tomorrow will bring the end of tomorrows. That’s how it goes. That will be ok, too.)

Thank you for stand up comedy.

Thank you for the latest watch party with the ladies.

Thank you for POTUS leading with compassion, giving wisdom on how to grieve based on his experience. Feeling sadness and loss heals our insides to process grief in a healthy way.

Thank you for effort and ease.

Thank you for vegan almond croissants.

Thank you for iTunes for the time being.

Thank you for Milpa blue corn tortillas. They make crispy light chips in the air fryer.

Thank you for warmer and sunnier days here lately.

Thank you for clear, warm weather for a bike ride two weekends in a row.

Thank you for the calm gained when reading The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching. Every time, I feel peaceful and happy. Thank you for different ways to give (from that book)—joy, presence, stability, freedom, freshness, peace, space, understanding. Thank you for the bottoms of pages 179, 181, and 188.

Thank you for the contentment of watching Peaches sleep.

Thank you for more house pics from Elyse and for everyone who is hard at work on construction. It has floors and walls and lofts and ceilings and windows now. The build appears to be on schedule.

Thank you for naturally lit kitchens. Cooking is easier in natural light. The end results can be tastier too.

Thank you for the comfort not to have broken bones or other major injuries. When I appreciate my health, it’s hard to be sad.

Thank you for busy days.

Thank you for the sun’s warmth.

Thank you for you.

Thank you for the design phase of the house finished and construction beginning. Thank you for everyone who is working hard to make it happen. Thank you for the house pics Elyse sent.

Thank you for Manny at SCE responding to my inquiry with a kind message.

Thank you for a moving truck with trailer reserved. Why was I so nervous about making the reservation? It ended up quick and easy. The truck is smaller than what I drove out here. Plus the move will not be as rushed and should be better prepared in some ways.

Thank you for the environmental health application submitted and approved (the first of two steps toward the temporary housing permit). Thank you for Sister requesting we pray over it before sending it out. It happened to be on the anniversary of when we lost our dad. He would have been happy with us and for us.

Thank you for hope that the pandemic will continue to shrink. Thank you for so many people being vaccinated.

Thank you for when science brings us closer to balance and equilibrium and farther from their opposites. I guess it’s not science per se but how/why it’s done and used, idk.

Thank you for humanity starting to open our eyes. Thank you for all of us who are trying to make things better.

Thank you for interconnectedness.

Thank you for eyes peeking above masks. 

Thank you for pandas playing in snow.

Thank you for supportive, caring, patient friends.

Thank you for cactus paddles that cradle snow like spoons.

Thank you for a sunny walk.

Thank you for leftover soup saving me from having to cook dinner.

Thank you for candlelight’s calm.

Thank you for the power of perspectives.

Thank you for forgotten thoughts of gratitude.

Thank you for active communities.

Thank you for infrastructure in cities that nurtures well-being and cooperation.

Thank you for how we are sort of products of our environment. It can be unhealthy but also presents opportunity.

Thank you for mom and sister painting together every week lately.

Thank you again for the TJs here in ABQ. The friendliness is happy-making.

Thank you for a little more practice expressing dissent in healthier ways.

Thank you for jackfruit carnitas. Thank you for fingers that smell like corn tortillas.

Thank you for C Street and Sunset with Al and Ryan a lifetime ago.

Thank you for unlikely friendships.

Thank you for conversations about what matters to us. Thank you for heartfelt talks from unassuming talkers. 

Thank you for bike rides on PCH and Mulholland.

Thank you for visits with Stacey and the family at Joi Cafe.

Thank you for the decision to be happy in my home.

Thank you for the decision not to have anything in the house run on any gas, which I didn’t realize was a thing. Now I’m learning, it is a thing. (There’s a lot for me to learn.)

Thank you for a nightguard to keep from grinding, especially for Sister recommending it and sharing her dentist friends with me. So far it doesn’t like to spend the night in my mouth. I’m not giving up. Thank you for Dorothy and Quan being so caring.

Thank you for the luxury to rest when tired. Thank you for awareness that resting when tired should not be a luxury.  

Thank you, again, for my anger continuing to subside over the years, especially these days. I don’t think it could be a situational effect (not entirely).

Thank you for self awareness (of problems, challenges) and openness about issues. 

Thank you for ways to keep track of finances.

Thank you for the word “tub.”

Thank you for the term “soda pop.”

Thank you for Support + Feed.

Thank you for PCRM.

Thank you for Plum Village.

Thank you for when we don’t automatically accept what is presented to us as obviously or incontrovertibly correct. Views approved by consensus may be mistaken—even views that so many feel entitled to self-righteously defend. What is healthy or “right” may depend on the circumstances. It can be impossible to understand what is happening with someone if you aren’t going through it yourself.

Thank you for dreams of a new home in an old spot, of growing a garden, of rides to Sage for lazy brunch, dinners cooked for loved ones, walks around the lake, talks at the library, campouts in the yard, quiet meditations, yoga before bed, soaks in the tub, tiny house retreats for city-worn friends, chats with neighbors down the hill, trips to farmers markets, mornings at the beach, bike rides, sunbaths, star gazes, compost bins (two!), sunburns, coyotes and deer and bunnies and squirrels and tarantulas and maybe even mountain lions.

Thank you for a winter coat. 

Thank you for the internal capacity to regulate emotions. Thank you for our insides doing the gradual work of balancing us out, when all we do is accept our feelings. Trust in the process and willingness to be uncomfortable have helped me. Considering that I yelled back at an elderly lady with road rage last week while I was out for a walk, there is room for improvement.

Thank you for muscles that strengthen with use.

Thank you for flexibility. Thank you for balance. I’m not that flexible and balanced but strive to be. It’s reassuring to see that they increase with effort.

Thank you for vegan pecan pie from Annapurna’s 

Thank you for overall confidence in NM elected officials and how they’re handling the virus. 

Thank you for women different from me who stop wearing makeup (“slave paint”) and dyeing their hair, who let their body hair grow freely and live off grid in the jungle with their boyfriends. I admire the confidence, fierceness, integrity.

Thank you for the blurb in the New Yorker about Paul Desmond and Audrey Hepburn that puts a positive spin on light stalking.

Thank you for breaks from screen time, breaks from the news especially.

Thank you for employees who realize it’s unwise and unhealthy to keep taking on more and more at their job. These days so many institutions downsize and push more work onto fewer employees, or else they grow their output without expanding their payroll. It results in overworked and stressed employees. Fortunately, some are able to stand up and say this isn’t right and/or to find alternative incomes.

Thank you for healthy forms of diligence. 

Thank you for the realization that we shouldn’t have to punish ourselves (working long hours, enduring stressful commutes, draining our curiosity, relying on chemical stimulants, losing sleep, being confined or strained for hours….) every day in order to afford basic comforts—to make a living, I mean. If that is the requirement or the norm in society, then society is flawed. We as individuals are not flawed for wanting freer and simpler lives.

Thank you for pleasurable effort, work.

Thank you for self esteem. Just saying it is something to be grateful for.

Thank you for a new way to stay awake when meditating: have a tall glass of water first.

Thank you for when monster headaches let up. The latest is almost done. Maybe it was a coffee hangover.

Thank you for the homemade mocha ice blended that gave me the monster headache. It wasn’t worth the pain but did satisfy a coffee craving.

Thank you for our compassion for each other’s petty and not-so-petty struggles.

Thank you for positive benefits that build from doing the same little thing consistently over time. It’s extra rewarding if that thing involves communication and trust with someone you care about. Such work is more than worth it.

Thank you for you.

Thank you for respect.

Thank you for intelligence.

Thank you for companionship.

Thank you for kindness.

Thank you for yearnings.

Thank you for beauty.

Thank you for appreciation.

Thank you for tenacity.

Thank you for excitement.

Thank you for softness.

Thank you for devotion.

Thank you for change.

Thank you for warm, slow evolutions of relationships.

Thank you for pizza sauce. 

Thank you for awareness that I feel very overwhelmed lately (as usual) and how fortunate it is to have a positive future to feel overwhelmed about.

Thank you for mindful breaths.

Thank you for peaceful sleep.

Thank you for a fridge packed with healthy food—sweet potatoes, greens, berries, lentils…

Thank you for kitchen organization that prevents food waste.

Thank you for almost lunchtime.

Thank you for forced rest on snow days.

Thank you for when I heard S.O.Y.P., etc., this morning and thought of what Thich Nhat Hanh said about equanimity or inclusiveness, one of the four elements of true love. He shared something like this: If you throw a handful of salt in a bowl of water, the water becomes undrinkable. But if you throw the same amount of salt in a river, the salt disperses and people can still enjoy drinking from the river. It’s because the river is immense. He said to be immense, like the river. That’s what I’ll try to do.

Thank you for when we can see where our vagueness may have been the source of misunderstanding, and we try to make ourselves clearer.

Thank you for DM3 and its counterpart. To me it feels like they’ve evolved through disagreements, vulnerabilities, and persistence to be even more special than they were at the start. Hopefully I’m not alone in that feeling. Hopefully what I’ve contributed is beneficial beyond me.

Thank you for the last minute decision to give up the app with mysterious vibes for the period of lent. Time there was rewarding, especially believing in its benefits beyond me. I am very grateful for it. But recent word shows that it continues to be a source of confusion and suffering. I will lovingly give a break to prioritize wellbeing.

Thank you for even optimistic friends who are willing to say that they’re just ok or decent or coping. Thank you for their honesty and trust to share their ups and downs. 

Thank you for mistakes that turn out happy.

Thank you for how many chances I’ve had in life. It makes me feel like others deserve countless chances, too.

Thank you for those who believe in others and give them chances even after they’ve messed up. My dad is someone who believed in me like that.

Thank you for the opportunity to live where it’s not densely populated, especially during a pandemic.

Thank you for miracles and visions and healing—stuff that some folks who think they’re rational deny belief in. The modern world makes it harder for magic to happen, but it still happens.

Thank you for when I imagine Peaches not being around five years from now. It makes me want to give her a good life.

Thank you for a clearer head and more energy today (probably due to juice fast). 

Thank you for the last four years about to be over and new leadership that seems trustworthy.

Thank you for shelter on cold, windy days.

Thank you for soft clothes.

Thank you for the dream that Peaches and Seppe were pals.

Thank you for when security works to keep peace and protect lives.

Thank you for a peaceful inauguration. 

Thank you for reconciliation and civility.

Thank you for a snow day. 

Thank you for progress on the house.

Thank you for every experience holding lessons.

Thank you for a science fiction thought prompted by Monday Starts on Saturday. What if the future you were in a loving long-term relationship. Maybe the future you outlived your partner, who passed away years down the line, and soon after that death (for whatever reason) the future you started traveling back in time. So every day at midnight, instead of going forward to the next day, she went backward to the previous day, continuing to age into the past with each passing day. She saw the person she used to be living her life in normal time, advancing with each day, as she (the future self) appeared to become younger with each advancing day. At some point, the future self rewinded to the days when her past self and her eventual SO were first seeing each other. Maybe her past self was shy, at first. From the future self’s perspective of having known the man for years, this hesitance would seem unnecessary. She may try to enlighten her past self with a future perspective, so that her past self and her partner would enjoy more time together.

Thank you for deeper truths underneath shallower ones. For instance, sometimes we say what is technically true, but we do so out of anger. Our intent is to use truth as a weapon and inflict harm. The deeper truth beneath such insults is that we ourselves feel hurt and angry. So it’s more honest to say this deeper truth than it is to say the insult. Compassion and truth link up like that.

Thank you for fingers fitting inside ears, etc., even if not advised.

Thank you for days when it’s easier to find reasons for happiness.

Thank you for the sound of a banana peeling.

Thank you for a humidifier in my room.

Thank you for chins. Thank you for lips.

Thank you for better posture sometimes.

Thank you for the colors green and white together. (No matter if white isn’t technically a color.)

Thank you for last night’s (01.24.21) dream of swimming/playing in pool/ocean with a friend from high school and my ex-boyfriend. (They were a couple in the dream.) At first I was hesitant to join them in the cold water. Once in, it felt surprisingly warm even though I wasn’t moving much. There was fear of sharks until I saw one swimming along the bottom (like a catfish?) and pointed out that it was a small (not 3 ft long) tiger shark. It brought excitement in place of fear. After that, I marveled at a large black fish with feathery scales, and some other creature, not sure what. The only difficulty was the murkiness of the water. Also to note, my friend I found beautiful. But she didn’t see her beauty. She saw herself as overweight, and she was upset that she couldn’t brush through her hair because of tangles and dead ends. She admired me. She combed through my hair, complimenting it. I felt self conscious. The ex-bf didn’t play a notable role. He was simply her bf. This dream seemed like progress from previous ones. It felt safe and friendly in the water, idk.

Thank you for the TNH book, The Heart of Buddha’s Teaching. It’s one of the only books I brought when we evacuated. That’s kind of sad to think about because I had so many. But it tells how important this one must have been without even realizing it and despite the fact that I don’t identify as Buddhist. Re-reading it, a passage today made an impression: “When we have a toothache, we know that not having a toothache is happiness. But later, when we don’t have a toothache, we don’t treasure our non-toothache. Practicing mindfulness helps us learn to appreciate the well-being that is already there.”

Thank you for another passage that stood out today: “”Don’t run away from things that are unpleasant in order to embrace things that are pleasant. Put your hands in the earth. Face the difficulties and grow new happiness.”

Thank you for strategies when feeling down that prevent spirals into the abyss.

Here is one: Acceptance! If I feel irritable or angry or upset, sometimes there’s a moment of recognition when I pause and acknowledge it. I tell myself it’s ok and try to ease up the pressure, as if I were caring for a troubled child. That may mean that I ease up on my plans. If feeling lethargic, I may allow myself to rest without guilt. It depends on the situation.

Here is a second path: After acknowledging that I’m having difficulty, I think of what is healthy for me—exercise, sunshine, whole foods, gratitude, self expression, friendships, mindfulness… Then I’ll make one healthy choice. For instance, I felt sad last night. The temptation was to binge watch junk videos, which would have been to escape my feelings. I needed rest but not escape. So, I watched and listened to TNH teaching about love. I also silently explored the sadness. It seemed like maybe a little self pity, to be honest—from trying to work through problems but continuing to hit walls. After a brief ugly cry, it was time for sleep. The morning felt fresh again. 

A third strategy: Expand the lens. Down moods can be a call for new perspective. It may mean I need to free myself from time, place, convention, etc. For instance, sadness may result from getting too caught in the future, assuming a challenge will last forever, and that positive change is impossible. Many life stories bear witness that change is possible. Sadness can also come from focusing too narrowly on problems tied to one situation and becoming blind to what is going right in other situations. Maybe one tree in our life is struggling but the forest is thriving; or the forest is struggling but there are still healthy trees to nurture. Similarly, we may focus on challenging aspects of ourself and ignore our strengths. Or we may compare our life to some expectation that rests on artifice. An example of this is when I turned thirty and felt depressed that I was not only unmarried but not even in a relationship. I was comparing myself back then to some illusory standard. The solution to all these perspective-based pains is to expand the lens and shift the focus. Look at other people’s lives and stories. See how history has shifted over time. Remember the diversity of the world, the huge range of “normal” that exists, and how it continues to change. 

A fourth strategy: Try to find lessons in the pain. Study my experience from a robot’s view. There’s always a lesson to learn and grow from. There’s always a new option to explore. We can learn and find new solutions when we study ourselves and our emotions from a detached perspective. Sometimes, for me, it helps to think of pain as nothing more than that. It is only a feeling. Once the pain is categorized as simply a feeling of hurt, the situation becomes clearer. 

Thank you for the four elements of true love in TNH’s teachings: loving kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity (inclusiveness).

Thank you for anyone who finds anything in here helpful or uplifting.

Thank you for better time management last week.

Thank you for good feels after fasting.

Thank you for kooky text messages from Don.

Thank you for Veganuary.

Thank you for healthy bodies.

Thank you for bright blue skies.

Thank you for toes.

Thank you for practice dealing with (my) mental health issues because it’s made it easier to deal with new issues that come up, like strain from the pandemic. 

Thank you for time to read over my 2020 daily planner and see the shift since pre-covid. It was a bigger lifestyle change than I had realized.

Thank you for a year of lowered expectations and activity. (Of rest?)

Thank you for free wisdom and advice on wellness (online, for example). To find what works for a given individual may take discernment and persistence. I especially appreciate wisdom from unexpected sources.

Thank you for conversations we have with ourselves.

Thank you for the capacity to think about our own thoughts and feelings.

Thank you for times I don’t recall all there is to be thankful for but push myself to write anyway. Thank you for when it doesn’t feel genuine but I keep on because it’s a healthy practice. And it does help. Meditation is like that too.

Thank you for difficulty facing loved ones after a falling out. In some cases it wouldn’t be that hard if we weren’t so sensitive and caring. It shows we care. In other words, a possible side effect of a delicate heart is an overactive conscience? Or it could be value judgments of ourselves muddy things up. Whatever the case, thank you for non-judgmental awareness (stripping emotions bare) as a solvent that clears space for understanding and reconciliation. 

Thank you for the past being the past. Thank you for no need to apologize, confront, or blame. Thank you for learning from the past when at a vantage point that feels safe.

Thank you for the perfect playlist to enjoy on a snowy morning walk. Thank you for how cute Peaches looks trotting to music.

Thank you for matcha powder.

Thank you for unemployment benefits. 

Thank you for policies informed by research and by successful models.

Thank you for women leaders adding fresh perspectives.

Thank you for US politicians starting to take the climate crisis more seriously.

Thank you for confusion when it’s closer to truth. Thank you for when you look at something deeply enough, when you keep questioning, and confidence morphs into uncertainty. Sometimes the confusion is unhealthy self doubt. Other times, it’s healthy. I think that continued questioning removed from emotion ultimately may discern the healthy from unhealthy doubts.

Thank you for coconut water.

Thank you for reusable feminine products.

Thank you for seasonal produce.

Thank you for covid vaccinations although I might be a little hesitant to get one right away.

Thank you for thoughtful, kind, sensitive, hilarious, supportive, insightful, strong silent friends.

Thank you for feelings expressed, positive and negative and in between.

Thank you for the capacity to express hurt, to say “ouch.” My view is that bringing suffering to light in relationships creates opportunity for understanding. It strengthens bonds. If I’m unsure how to share in a healthy way, then I may take time to respond.

Related to the above, thank you for help/clarification on the question, When I feel hurt, what would be a healthy way to communicate that? 

Thank you for Charity at Andy Gump offering information with kindness.

Thank you for fingernails. 

Thank you for healthy skin.

Thank you for families that get along.

Thank you for a favorite quote from Harvey: “In this world . . . you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant. Well, for years, I was smart. I recommend pleasant.”

Thank you for Jimmy Stewart.

Thank you for a long bike and walk path nearby, on the PCH of ABQ (Tramway).

Thank you for waterfalls. 

Thank you for vegan shepherd’s pies. Thank you for recipes exchanged.

Thank you for self care, especially during difficult times. Self care I divide into four parts: body, mind, heart, and soul. Even though they’re all connected it helps me to look at it this way. Here are some examples. To care for the body includes diet, sleep, exercise, etc. Reading, math, meditation, learning a new language, are all good for the mind. Sustaining respectful relationships keeps the “heart” in good shape. To care for the soul means to nurture the relationship with the inner self and to feed the relationship with something greater, through meditation, prayer, reading, fasting.

Thank you for routines that facilitate self care and give a sense of control and predictability. They stabilize moods. And they help me to be more productive when they’re not too rigid.

Thank you for intentional discomfort as the counterbalance to routine. Finding comfort within discomfort is key to having ease in a dynamic world. I think new learning and adventures, however scary, help. Lately I’m lacking in this department. Anyway plenty of adventures await.

Thank you for playful pooches.

Thank you for watermelon booch.

Thank you for studies of happiness.

Thank you for Peaches letting me hold her close when the fireworks were popping.

Thank you for the Forks over Knives queso recipe. It’s relatively healthy and fun to make. It’s not drool-worthy but good enough.

Thank you for friends with sound advice.

Thank you for time to think.

Thank you for new year’s resolutions. This year I’d like to practice prioritizing time to be more productive (but not busy). Other objectives are to draw healthy boundaries for myself and to communicate with compassion. 

Thank you for when there is ambiguity in another’s words or actions, and we choose to interpret it in a way that leaves his or her best self unscathed. Thank you for the principle of charity.

Thank you for no frills living.

Thank you for the simplicity of happiness.

Thanks you for the irony of greater happiness or contentment resulting from an even mind as opposed to a mind that seeks pleasure and avoids pain.

Thank you for new leaves on verbena the dracaena. 

Thank you for lists and the fun of deleting some items and crossing off others.

Thank you for awareness of how absorbent I am. Things soak in easily so I’m careful about environments.

Thank you for cumulative positive effects.

Thank you for Jan 20 almost here.

Thank you for Georgia.

Thank you for politicians crossing the aisle to do what’s right. 

Thank you for voices that speak unpopular truths.

Thank you for long walks.

Thank you for the capacity to see when we’ve strayed off track informing decisions to correct course.

Thank you for cheerfulness when skies are clear.

Thank you for calm when skies are cloudy.

Thank you for leadership in a framework not of justice and retribution but of insight and love.

Thank you for a new read, Monday Starts on Saturday. It’s entertaining.

Thank you for everyone in my immediate family sharing basically similar political views now.

Thank you for dwelling places as sanctuaries. Outside our doors, anything can happen. If we’re lucky, we enjoy some control within our homes. We can make them refuges where all are treated well. We can feel safer there. 

Thank you for the ability to learn throughout life.

Thank you for soup weather.

Thank you for big changes on the way.

Thank you for weekends.

Thank you for peaceful sleep.

Thank you for a fiber rich diet. Thank you for easy-going poops. 

Thank you for the thought that arguments are really just ways to clear up misunderstandings and to learn.

Thank you for the latest attempt to dress as a sort of grown woman and still be somewhat responsible. Thank you for the phrase “sartorially challenged.”

Thank you for Anita offering me a tall stack of her secondhand duds when we were at the office—I think she felt bad that I rotated the same set of (mostly workout) pants and tees every week. But it was comfy and hassle-free, plus no one seemed to mind. Anyway, she’s always thinking of others’ wellbeing.

Thank you for the orchid hypothesis. It shed light on my dismal performance in some situations and better outcomes in others. It helps me to understand loved ones, too. A friend suggested that to think of oneself as an orchid is to see oneself as superior (to other flower-types I guess). That’s assuming the view of an orchid as a superior flower. The orchid is different from, say, the dandelion. It’s not better or worse. 

Thank you for the diversity of flowers.

Thank you for awareness that if it’s hard to face what’s happening in my life, it may be that I’m struggling to face something(s) about myself. Maybe sometimes that’s because there are intermediaries between the external circumstances of my life, on one hand, and me, on the other. Those go-betweens are my perceptions, thoughts, feelings… So if I’m troubled about what’s going on in my life, I may actually in some sense be troubled by my own perceptions, thoughts, and feelings. So it may be helpful to explore that trouble with awareness. The discomfort may be asking for change of a real life thing or of perceptions-thoughts-feelings.

Thank you for what I practice I become better at doing. So if I practice exploring challenges then I become better at doing so.

Thank you for our little daily habits building our lives.

Thank you for more interesting dreams lately or at least better memory of them. It’s likely because of activities done and not done before bed. For instance, at bedtime I’ve been asking questions.

Thank you for unconditional love.

Thank you for when our care for people motivates us to try and be more loving.

Thank you for feeling fortunate during a ride and a jog recently. Fortunate to be outside and active. One day that sort of pleasure won’t be available to me.

Thank you for the thought that none of us can ever be an inferior human being because no one compares to anyone else. Each of us is unique. On top of that we can never know or measure all of our differences. Does this analogy work? Maybe each of us is like a long complicated unsolvable equation full of unknown variables. I don’t know, hopefully you get the idea anyway.

Thank you for the magic of extra time and space in ABQ. 

Thank you for gifts that time allows. 

Thank you for an elevated quality of care received when there’s no rush and we have space to listen and talk.

Thank you for Dr. Tran and Dr. Lovato looking after my teeth.

Thank you for less than three months until March.

Thank you for Randy helping us with repairs on the old house. Thank you for his trying over and over again to get through the roadblocks to see if homes of his friends and clients were ok after the fire. When he finally did pass through, he sent us videos to let us know what had happened. He didn’t have to do that. We didn’t ask. It took time and work to keep trying every day repeatedly, just to give closure one way or another. It’s the kind of favor that you wouldn’t forget if someone did it for you.

Thank you for John (hopefully) helping me to level a spot at the top of the driveway. Thank you for the support of everyone with Lutheran Social Services, and for them connecting me with John, who seems like a trustworthy and kind contractor.

Thank you for progress on environmental health application (for temporary residence permit). Hopefully I can submit it next week and then submit the application for a temporary residence as soon as Environmental Health has signed off. The next step after that is to reserve an air bnb and look into having the car towed back (not enough charging stations on the way) and reserving a van and storage. It’s overwhelming to do it all at once, so I take it a little at a time.

Thank you for Sister’s help with the applications.

Thank you for thank yous as a way to communicate more than thank yous.

Thank you for Alicia at Vitalant. She was exceptionally calm, reassuring, and attentive. 

Thank you for efforts to shift my perspective from what the world gives me to what I offer it.

Thank you for the painful lessons and strained (sometimes ended) relationships that have biased me towards sobriety even though the lure of intoxication is still strong. I can’t say that I’m always sober or would want to be. I feel fortunate that most of the time I want to be. 

Thank you for funny accents.

Thank you for alone time.

Thank you for the satisfaction of eye contact with non-human animals.

Thank you for repeat thank yous.

Thank you for differences across people, for the texture that makes us interesting.

Thank you for lefties and righties.

Thank you for a little bit of stretching on a consistent basis. It makes moving, standing, and sitting more comfortable.

Thank you for acceptance of slow progress.

Thank you for conditions for happiness everywhere.

Thank you for birthdays.

Thank you for special treats to show love. For me food is extra fun to give. 

Thank you for life felt from inside.

Thank you for questions. Thank you for questions we ask ourselves.

Thank you for an old wish: to play matchmaker successfully by setting up two single friends. It hasn’t exactly happened yet. 

Thank you for when we see through our biases to the individuality, strength, and beauty of strangers.

Thank you for Republicans and Democrats with integrity.

Thank you for compassion for those with whom we disagree.

Thank you for brevity.

Thank you for sighs of relief.

Thank you for warm coats. 

Thank you for porch lights.

Thank you for extraordinary, one-of-a-kind beings. Hopefully they realize how precious their lives are.

Thank you for surreal love stories. 

Thank you for benefits that flow from a situation as devastating as the pandemic.

Thank you for two consecutive days of outside interactions (blood center and dentist) recently—calm, kind people. Warmth and positivity.

Thank you for chewy cookies.

Thank you for an uplifting chat with Stacey.  

Thank you for laughs being a regular part of life.

Thank you for hopeful environments.

Thank you for friends.

Thank you for shelters.

Thank you for self care.

Thank you for other care.

Thank you for cell phones, sometimes.

Thank you for gentle boundaries.

Thank you for lessons learned the hard way and the not-so-hard way.

Thank you for vitamins (D3, B12, C…).

Thank you for text messages except not a bunch at once because that’s overwhelming.

Thank you for hidden messages.

Thank you for software and hardware as tools.

Thank you for researchers who seek and find more responsible tools for society.

Thank you for our capacity to improve wellbeing.

Thank you for silence.

Thank you for butterflies.

Thank you for mountain lions (from a distance).

Thank you for Christmas cards.

Thank you for extra smooth breathing lately, for whatever reason.

Thank you for my plants staying alive almost two years (with the exception of Gigi, RIP). This record I never dreamed was achievable. Really, they did it. Or nature did. But it feels like I’m not as incapable as previously convinced.

Thank you for teamwork. 

Thank you for when giving prompts more giving.

Thank you for the holiday spirit. Especially here in ABQ where the pace is less rushed, interactions lately have been pleasant.

Thank you for ginger beard men. 

Thank you for appliances with pleasant chimes.

Thank you for productive mornings. 

Thank you for fears faced.

Thank you for the realization of my codependent tendencies (or something like that). it’s hard to express hurts and needs. Instead, I pretend that I only see the positive in situations that also have challenges. Thank you for hope to communicate respectfully.

Thank you for the feelings of places and the memories of the feelings.

Thank you for Peaches having time to enjoy more freedom on walks nowadays.

Thank you for over day two of a fast and feeling relatively well. The purpose is to gain clarity on confusions and seek help. At the moment it seems difficult to think. And I don’t agree that fasting must be done in secret. Talking about it may raise interest in that sort of thing.  

Thank you for how delicious all sorts of foods sound right about now. Hot wings from Veggie Grill top the list. I can’t help it. Thank you for a clean feeling inside. Thank you for good struggles. Thank you for peace.

Thank you for Sprouts nearby with multiple juice options.

Thank you for Follow Your Heart crispy tempeh tacos. Thank you for the friendly offbeat peeps working there, keeping the homey vibe.

Thank you for salty teeth (as opposed to sweet teeth).

Thank you for attempts to think and communicate with love. Feeling sad, guilty, and apologetically failed. Hoping to improve with practice. Feedback helps, too.

Thank you for yesterday morning’s body scan meditation.

Thank you for the work we put into relationships, improving us as individuals.

Thank you for relationships. Even though they take time and trials, they have ups and downs, they’ll never be perfect—sometimes they’re worth it.

Thank you for make-out sessions with Peaches. 

Thank you for the dog cookie recipe from It Doesn’t Taste Like Chicken blog.

Thank you for the dog food recipe from the Jane Unchained site.

Thank you for Peaches’ excitement when her dinner and treats are cooking.

Thank you for messages from afar showing us how fortunate we are. 

Thank you for the uncertain luxury of time.

Thank you for friends who bring music into each other’s lives.

Thank you for tears and laughter.

Thank you for when I try to focus on how I live my life instead of focusing on how others live theirs.

Thank you for awareness of the health benefits of food motivating healthier choices.

Thank you for bike repair shops being essential.

Thank you for humbling ailments, like the tendency for my face to swell up every once in a while when it doesn’t like something. Thank you for Eric on the bike trip advising me to visit urgent care when I had unusually puffy features. If he hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have gone. Thank you for when he joked that it reminded him of the Nutty Professor. It wasn’t a mean joke and it still makes me laugh to think about it.

Thank you for healing.

Thank you for the mask mandate preventing illness. Also, sometimes it’s nice to hide warm and protected. 

Thank you for allergy pills as a last resort instead of a doctor.

Thank you for big glasses of water before long morning walks.

Thank you for trusting relationships.

Thank you for freedom of speech. Thank you for a free press.

Thank you for responsibilities that come with freedoms.

Thank you for Lesley Fightmaster’s yoga videos helping to keep so many of us balanced and to move us nearer to our centers. Thank you for her kindness and optimism, for her gentle voice and the inspiration and wisdom she shared. Thank you for her gifts lifting me up through the years.

Thank you for spiritual leaders masquerading as everyday people who transform lives from the inside out.

Thank you for when we exchange love and gratitude with beings while they are still with us.

Thank you for those who give the best of themselves freely to anyone in need. Thank you for true gifts that instead of feeding desires build health. 

Thank you for noble professions and their practitioners. 

Thank you for reminders that life is fragile and temporary, of how precious it is.  

Thank you for the Inner French and some of the Rich Roll podcasts. 

Thank you for vegan bloggers and youtubers sharing information, recipes, and inspiration. They help readers and viewers to make healthier choices, to live more kindly, and to feel like we are not alone in our less mainstream lifestyle.

Thank you for revolutionaries at the forefront of change (like Greta) who start out lonely but persist to draw influence.

Thank you for expressive looks, ones that talk without saying words.

Thank you for male friends who are respectful.

Thank you for food banks.

Thank you for blood banks.

Thank you (again) for when I feel overwhelmed and unproductive, but instead of getting angry and making it worse, I try to have compassion. Then it seems to take less time before picking back up again.

Thank you for sunlight reflecting off puddles.

Thank you for the spectrum of feels evoked by different light sources.

Thank you for the sky’s “landscape” altering the mood of the earth’s landscape.

Thank you for when my phone lying quietly on the table decided to play a song (Keep On Smilin’).

Thank you for friends in touch over the holidays.

Thank you for friendly ghosts who inflame hearts.

Thank you for nightly rituals.

Thank you for new weeks and fresh chances.

Thank you for time and resources to prepare for a major shift. Thank you for much to do in preparation, because it’s a good problem to have.

Thank you for the thought (again, this time hopefully more impactful) that I have to advocate for my needs because no one else can or will do so in my place. (Who are they to know what my needs are if I leave them unexpressed?) Thank you for that insight motivating slightly more assertiveness.

Thank you for Excedrin.

Thank you for excuses to spend all day in the kitchen.

Thank you for rosemary clipped fresh.

Thank you for friends’ parties where I could help out behind the scenes so I didn’t have to socialize or feel awkward and guilty for not socializing. Thank you for gatherings with purpose beyond the social, because they can feel more comfortable socially.

Thank you for personalities to fit all sorts of occasions.

Thank you for countless ways to do good.

Thank you for less anxiety these days when it’s time to pay bills. 

Thank you for pecan raisin bread. Even if it’s popular to hate on raisins, they’re a-okay by me.

Thank you for everybody who works to keep society running smoothly and its inhabitants healthy and comfy. 

Thank you for caregivers. 

Thank you for prayers we’ve prayed when we were too young to understand what prayer is.

Thank you for how being corrected when I was overconfident of being right gave a good lesson. It was a reminder to ask questions rather than assume answers, to use a gentle tone of voice rather than one that’s too self assured. Like TNH urges, we should ask, “Are you sure?” The more I remember to ask myself that question, the less my arrogance will need to be checked by external circumstances.

Thank you for when we remember during our best (or better) times that they are someone else’s worst (or worse) times.

Thank you for when we think to share and help.

Thank you for when we practice equanimity.

Thank you for Chris (handyman) fixing the gate so that it easily opens and closes without scraping.

Thank you for face lotion.

Thank you for dogs in turtleneck sweaters.

Thank you for the jogger who stops to say “hi” on her morning workout. Thank you for her remembering Peaches’ name and calling out to her this morning.

Thank you for government relief efforts that keep lives afloat.

Thank you for everyone who donates and volunteers during difficult times.

Thank you for Red Cross shelters.

Thank you for firefighters.

Thank you for how more of us being touched personally by tragedy and hardship means a surge of compassion.

Thank you for pear upside-down cakes, for upside-down cakes of all sorts.

Thank you for the wisdom that our dreaming selves share with our waking selves.

Thank you for when two dreaming selves seem to connect.

Thank you for when if feels like there is no hurry.

Thank you for painters, dancers, musicians, poets… all the folks dedicated to making “non-essential” stuff, who sacrifice to do so.

Thank you for love.

Thank you for little tools around the house (like scissors and Allen wrenches) that make life easier.

Thank you for a measure of relief from election anxieties.

Thank you for the possibility of a brighter future.

Thank you for politicians who care about deeply important issues, and for hope that their dedication to address those issues will increase with more input from people like us.

Thank you for safeguards in place to check abuses of power.

Thank you for the enjoyment of life that comes more readily when all of one’s parts function as they should.

Thank you for the miracle to live here on this planet. 

Thank you for Kara’s excellent news. Thank you for her friendship making me a better person. 

Thank you for friends with shared values.

Thank you for matcha work dates. Thank you for long, caffeine-fueled, chatty strolls with gal pals where you want to keep walking because there’s so much to share.

Thank you for hot chocolate friends. They’re the ones who feel warm, safe, indulgent, and cozy to be with, where you can relax and let down your guard. Instead of being drained by their company, you’re nourished. (I strive to be a friend like that but may have a way to go.)

Thank you for hygge.

Thank you for men who don’t use their maleness as an excuse to be ruled by passions.

Thank you for humans who shatter stereotypes, partly because they refuse to play along with the rules and assumptions of mainstream culture.

Thank you for mochi.

Thank you for my roommate in NY.

Thank you for spiritual practices. Thank you for belief in the unseen. Thank you for efforts devoted to the invisible world that’s more real than the visible one.

Thank you for small investments giving large returns over time.

Thank you for thorough dentists.

Thank you for leftovers.

Thank you for clean sidewalks and streets.

Thank you for involved citizens.

Thank you for yin yoga.

Thank you for soft dog toys that squeak when chewed.

Thank you for ribbons holding places in journals.

Thank you for time to rest.

Thank you for a strong appetite more often than not (especially when exercising). 

Thank you for a relatively healthy relationship with food setting an example that one can enjoy eating without suffering negative consequences. Mealtimes needn’t be punishing in order to reach good health. Probably it’s healthier to do the opposite of punishment.

Thank you for sensory pleasures.

Thank you for the physical being more than physical. 

Thank you for the body’s connection to the self.

Thank you for when we listen to and respect our bodies, and they learn to trust us and share wisdom.

Thank you for magic all around and for senses to witness and feel it.

Thank you for shooting stars.

Thank you for floating balloons.

Thank you for falling leaves.

Thank you for tears shed over eucalyptus trees. Stepping over a patch of leaves on the sidewalk triggered the memory of their scent, but breathing the empty air brought reality back—I looked up to greet an unfamiliar tree. It was probably stress over the election that colored the situation sad. Still, remembering home is happy.

Thank you for flowering cacti.

Thank you for thoughts from reading Gandhi’s autobiography way back when. One thought was about being a scaredy cat who finds courage through truth. Truth can be like a cue card for someone who’s afraid to forget her lines. With it, she doesn’t have to worry or even think much else. She can just read from the card. It doesn’t come from her, and it’s got the right words written on it. So the pressure not to mess up is gone. There’s no seeking accolades or recoiling from condemnation. The autobiography gave me the impression that truth is what empowered its naturally timid author. He sought truth with faith in its compassion and peacefulness. Then when he found it, he advocated for it fearlessly, certain it was for the good of all and that he was simply a servant or messenger. 

Another thought was about when you are by nature or upbringing timid, you may turn oddly brave with the practice you have facing fear every day in little things that less insecure folks might not think much about. The practice prepares you for more socially agreed on “fearsome” situations that require extra courage and could otherwise catch you off guard.

Thank you for the privilege to know someone extraordinary on a level that maybe no one else does.

Thank you for a place to live.

Thank you for healthy food to eat.

Thank you for soup on the stove.

Thank you for beings who respect boundaries.

Thank you for scant dating experience aside from two long-term relationships. It feels like I’ve grown stronger in myself while not yoked to anyone. A drawback is naïveté but more advantages are I’ve not done much of the following: settled (poured water on passions), chased superficial thrills (set fire to passions), or grown bitter (drawn conclusions from the pain of trial and error). There’s learning from those experiences, too, it’s just not mine.

Thank you for lessons from past long-term relationships, too many lessons to mention and a lot that would no doubt go unheeded until I caused hurt to myself or others again. 

Thank you for an inner voice that has urged on several occasions to proceed with caution and was proven right with time. Thank you for when the voice seems to carry good news.

Thank you for all of us who see the sacred in our bodies and who welcome it to stay, encourage it to grow.

Thank you for housekeeping practices to keep inner spaces thriving.

Thank you for when another makes a difficult decision for us that we were unable to make for ourselves, and it gives us needed rest and space.

Thank you for the postal service and the employees who keep it running.

Thank you for independently run businesses.

Thank you for gifts that can be invisible when they surround us, like peace and freedom.

Thank you for seasons. Thank you for change. 

Thank you for colors. Thank you for music.

Thank you for films that impact lives in healthy ways.

Thank you for responsible communication, and for efforts to see and honor that responsibility. 

Thank you for a realization while meditating. When we don’t try to breathe but just let our breath do the breathing naturally, it’s often slower than if we tried to take over and do the breathing ourselves, pushing air in and out as if we’d die if we stopped trying. Likewise, when we abandon our efforts to force our lives and instead entrust them to nature, the living that happens naturally may be considerably slower than what would happen if we were to force our lives to play out by our own (egotistical) will. It seems healthier to let life be lived through us, because that life force is stronger and wiser than personal will. With life, though, it’s harder to know when we’re pushing things and when we’re letting them happen from the inside out.

Thank you for a healthier perspective on recent issues with LA County Building and Safety (while trying to make sure the tiny house will meet permanent residence codes). I wouldn’t be feeling frustrated about a perceived road block if I hadn’t been moving forward on the road.

Thank you for the latest road block teaching that maybe I’m gullible when it comes to dealing with bureaucracy and government, etc. So in the future, I’ll try to be wiser and/or to have help. An example of being wiser: Ask more questions. Verify that the info you’re given is accurate. If possible, have the person who is helping you to sign and date the documents they provide, to up accountability.

Thank you for the helpful intentions behind slip ups.

Thank you for Japanese sweet potatoes.

Thank you for compromise.

Thank you for flexibility. 

Thank you for couples made of individuals who speak different languages from one another and who try to learn each other’s languages.

Thank you for expectations trampled by reality clearing a path to love.

Thank you for patience.

Thank you for comfortable safe cages and harsh uncertain freedoms. 

Thank you for natural evolutions.

Thank you for songs.

Thank you for couples who meditate together.

Thank you for side by side.

Thank you for communication where disagreement is expressed without anger from the listener or the speaker.

Thank you for how stimulating it can be to argue when ego and emotions are not involved, for how much is gained about the topics at hand and the people presenting them.

Thank you for freedom of expression.

Thank you for stubbornness.

Thank you for love.

Thank you for Jesus’ sacrifice and love inspiring our better selves. Thank you for distant figures who touch lives across space and time without connecting on a physical level.

Thank you for brief glimpses of how truly fortunate I am. 

Thank you for the ability to chew with the teeth on the left and the ones on the right. 

Thank you for when I remember to chew well instead of scarfing because I’m so worried about stuff to do.

Thank you for fresh ginger.

Thank you for when Peaches is up for a long walk.

Thank you for huge breakfasts with a rainbow of fruits and veggies.

Thank you for repeated efforts to be more productive.

Thank you for smiles so big they squish tears from their upstairs neighbors.

Thank you for my dad demanding, “Please, God, give me patience—and give it to me now!”

Thank you for crusty bread. Thank you for effort in climbs. Thank you for questions without clear answers.

Thank you for the term dipper gourd.

Thank you for cranberry orange smoothies.

Thank you for the vibrance of cranberries and kabocha.

Thank you for mood boosts from jogging uphill. If you feel discouraged, it helps to find a hill and practice jogging up. Confidence also goes up as the jog gets easier with repeated effort. You start to believe that you can be on better terms with other unwelcoming landscapes, too.

Thank you for hope and equanimity.

Thank you for hunger at bedtime that fades without being fed.

Thank you for instant pot kitchari. 

Thank you for sweats and tanks and sockless feet.

Thank you for lines to vote.

Thank you for creative gifts. 

Thank you for deep waters. 

Thank you for deep breaths. 

Thank you for star watching even though I never know what I’m looking at.

Thank you for the trip to the observatory when Julie and her family visited LA. We saw the moon through a new lens.

Thank you for fantasies of simple pleasures.

Thank you for simple pleasures. 

Thank you for Elodie at Minimaliste helping to design the house, and for the collaborative process with her and Elyse. Thank you for a productive phone meeting, for how thorough and caring they are.

Thank you for the lemon tree at the lot. Hopefully it’s still alive. Thank you for the clipping from that tree growing downstairs. Thank you for my dad tending to the tree as long as he could.

Thank you for decisions thoughtfully made. 

Thank you for the heat making it sound and smell like a hotel (not a gross one) here in my room.

Thank you for editing, of which I could use more.

Thank you for multiple drafts because the first few usually benefit from a whole lot of revision.

Thank you for when people talk without thinking about what they’re going to say and somehow it turns out ok.

Thank you for awareness when I feel overwhelmed. Thank you for when there is patience with myself. Thank you for when there is patience with others.

Thank you for imaginations. 

Thank you for a weekend laying tiles with Sister and her Jeff at our place.

Thank you for the uplifting songs to spirit us through it.

Thank you for shimmies and booty shakes.

Thank you for thought involved in DIY projects. 

Thank you for learning new skills. 

Thank you for people who are generous with their time and effort. 

Thank you for grouting tiles with Sister and a Dolly Parton documentary. 

Thank you for likely Peaches’ first walk in snow, even though she didn’t seem to enjoy it. It was still a new experience that she can cross off her bucket list.

Thank you for slow motion silent snowflakes.

Thank you for cozy coats and gloves. 

Thank you for hot chocolate. 

Thank you for accomplishments when you feel like doing nothing.

Thank you for when we make good on past promises despite no obligation to do so.

Thank you for messages sent and received.

Thank you for the feeling of being appreciated and cared for .

Thank you for magic connections, no matter how ephemeral.

Thank you for the times I’m worried a friend is mad at me for saying or doing the wrong thing, when instead he or she is happy.

Thank you for “You do you.”

Thank you for “‘Cause that’s my business.”

Thank you for awareness of problems leading to focus on solutions.

Thank you for kabocha taquitos sounding weird but tasting yummy.

Thank you for when I don’t beat myself up over mistakes.

Thank you for the latest insight that shame in me burns almost like a deep hunger pang. It also shows up in tightness around the neck and shoulders. As for the gut hurt, when I’m already hungry, the shame feels worse because it amplifies a dull discomfort that’s already there.

Thank you for how blue the sky was today.

Thank you for live streamed jazz concerts.

Thank you for Peaches rolling in the grass on her bath day, so the stink will only be temporary.

Thank you for freedom from a recurring caffeine withdrawal migraine.

Thank you for warm blanket.

Thank you for anyone who values honesty.

Thank you for everyone who likes to think.

Thank you for optimistic dispositions that aren’t fake or selfish and are genuine and selfless.

Thank you for rewarding rides.

Thank you for xylophones and vibraphones.

Thank you for doing jigsaw puzzles with the family.

Thank you for all of us who value meeting basic wellness needs (regular eating and drinking, bathroom breaks, movement…) over other “important” tasks—like business meetings that run into lunchtimes, for example.

Thank you for the Dalai Lama’s canceled appearance at UCLA years ago. It spurred new thoughts on setting priorities.

Thank you for so many events held at UCLA that have inspired and educated.

Thank you for one-ply TP.

Thank you for quarancuts on dogs and humans going ok enough, and for the prospect of never having to pay for a haircut or to leave my dog at the groomer’s again.

Thank you for the little brown bird that landed on my arm in Palm Springs when I was opening the gate to the swimming pool. I’m sorry I shook you off. I wasn’t expecting you so close, and it scared me. Thinking of your nearness so long ago still feels lucky.

Thank you for the mood lift that comes after a hard workout.

Thank you for freedom to be a cheeseball if that’s how I want to be.

Thank you for “Let music loosen our deafness to spirit. Play and let play.” (Rumi).

Thank you for the twisted comfort I felt after looking up how long Hitler was in power. After well over a decade of him and his enablers scarring our world with a new landscape of tragedies, his reign finally passed. May scars, fresh and old, remind us to love.

Thank you for term limits.

Thank you again for efforts at equanimity. 

Thank you for the awareness of the urge to run from perceived challenges, and of the past consequences of my haste to escape, leaping from one difficult situation into a worse one. Then again, although patience can be helpful in challenging circumstances, at times it’s better to go anywhere at all than to stay stuck. At times, one must step in the direction that seems like forward and then keep moving from there.

Thank you for Rumi’s The Way That Moves As You Move.

And for the passage from One Human Gesture, “Spirit is the art of making what’s blocked start moving again.”

And for the passage from Being Slow to Blame, “There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen to that as your personal self breaks open. Taste the silence in the oil of a nut. That sweet joy is the reason we bother with walnut-rattling words at all. Hear the ecstatic dumbness inside poetry and discourses on mystery. For one day try not speaking!”

Thank you for shared beauty secrets.

Thank you for the growing trust between Sister and me.

Thank you for breakfast salads.

Thank you for pleasing flavor combos, like tamari and lime.

Thank you for thunder cats, bear cats, and tyrant lizard kings.

Thank you for marzipan.

Thank you for homemade galettes.

Thank you for a few things I love about road biking: (1) It’s a little bit riskier than everyday life otherwise. The reminder that I’m impermanent makes me feel alive. (2) It’s humbling to push the limitations of my body and still not move past average, and there’s comfort in being a dot among many in the thick part of the curve. (3) A long or hard ride leaves me too spent for the sadness and excitement that upset equilibrium. All that’s left is calm. (4) Cycling is a way to see the world, or at least to explore around town, free from the guilt of dirty transportation. (5) Exchanging waves and smiles with fellow animals scurrying outdoors is incompatible with loneliness.

Thank you for dog ears that point up and ones that hang down.

Thank you for the possibility to be in love.

Thank you for skirts with flattering lengths.

Thank you for legumes.

Thank you for bodily function humor.

Thank you for feeling freer to be my weird self.

Thank you for laughs with Sister talking about the arrow in her head and the rock in mine.

Thank you for spinach pies. Thank you for adas.

Thank you for Lebanese Americans with Southern drawls, like my Oklahoman dad.

Thank you for octopuses and other sci-fi creatures that actually are.

Thank you for countless blessings every single day.

Thank you for hope to have more of a voice and to find the right words to say the right way—and even if I don’t, I’ll try, and that will be ok.

Thank you for chats with Gayle on the lawn outside her condo.

Thank you for full days.

Thank you for a little more progress on the house details without obsessing about it.

Thank you for people who carve their own path, and for couples who do so.

Thank you for memories of lazing in the Cali sun.

Thank you for health insurance.

Thank you for absentee ballots.

Thank you for determination to make it work.

Thank you for patience with myself when I don’t know how to ask for what I need.

Thank you for Peaches loving almost everything I feed her (not arugula).

Thank you for sweaty workouts.

Thank you for when I care less about how I look and more about how I feel.

Thank you for an abundance of clean drinking water.

Thank you for online friends.

Thank you for calming faces.

Thank you for the hopeful feeling about next summer.

Thank you for repaired family rifts.

Thank you for how much clearer and calmer I sometimes feel after meditating.

Thank you for that Robert Redford movie with no talking where he’s alone on the water almost the entire time.

Thank you for plants that climb walls.

Thank you for insightful, caring friends. 

Thank you for soul music.

Thank you for periods of rest.

Thank you for openness to change.

Thank you for the little things that make a big difference.

Thank you for a smooth vet visit.

Thank you for feeling safe from earthquakes, wildfires, floods…

Thank you for peace all around.

Thank you for stocked shelves at grocery stores. Thank you for a stocked pantry at home.

Thank you for a blanket to keep warm nights.

Thank you for loyalty.

Thank you for dependability.

Thank you for when we get to hear the voice of a friend we’ve been missing.

Thank you for extraordinary regular folks forging unique everyday lives.

Thank you for faith in the next step forward when you have no idea where to go.

Thank you for buffalo sightings on bike rides.

Thank you for when it’s easier to think of things I’m grateful for.

Thank you for the lessons tucked within every difficulty.

Thank you for the growing availability of plastic-free options.

Thank you for good health.

Thank you for common threads linking people who at first glance seem quite different.

Thank you for the way anxieties can dissolve when faced.

Thank you for hindsight, and for lessons learned from it. Same goes for foresight.

Thank you for mindful awareness not just of the present but also of the past and future.

Thank you for gifts from my dad.

Thank you for political will.

Thank you for hope that good change is near.

Thank you for loving relationships.

Thank you for funny perspectives when situations feel too serious.

Thank you for friends who listen without judgement.

Thank you for science informing policies and lifestyles.

Thank you for things going right when so much seems not to be going right.

Thank you for electronic library books.

Thank you for simple thoughts.

Thank you for beginners’ minds.

Thank you for the difference between cleverness and wisdom.

Thank you for the warm, happy feeling of greetings between strangers.

Thank you for self-care strategies.

Thank you for when the waiting is worth it.

Thank you for this Thich Nhat Hanh quote: Love is not only enjoyment – we enjoy the presence of pleasant people. Love is a practice of generating more compassion and understanding. You must always remember that love is not just a matter of enjoyment. Love is a practice. And it is that aspect of love that can bring you growth and happiness – the greatest happiness.

Thank you for a new thought about relationships. I’ll confess that most of the ones I see don’t seem mutually beneficial and respectful or content, at least from the outside. And single status too—it doesn’t seem healthy when the explanations given for it are laced with anger or pessimism. So the thought is, considering the flood of unhealthy relationships toward relationships, the bulk of advice that seeps from this flood may be contaminated, too. Those in search of guidance toward a genuine partnership best wade carefully through common opinions.

Thank you for Rumi’s A Song of Being Empty.

Thank you for budding loves that make it off the ground despite repeated misunderstandings that sometimes happen when timid passions greet.

Thank you for decent and trustworthy folks who see decency and trustworthiness in the world.

Thank you for mundane details of daily life that, shared, feed trust. It’s counterintuitive: superficialities hold deeper value. What appears to kill intimacy nourishes it.

Thank you for a trip to back to Cali, hopefully this winter or spring.  Thank you for the possibility to visit friends.

Thank you for the thought that although I miss friends back home, perhaps the responsible move is to wait until this latest surge subsides before we visit. I wouldn’t want my impatience to hurt their loved ones. 

Thank you for patience with confusions within confusions.

Thank you for problems to maneuver through and come out better on the other side.

Thank you for when I have the courage to express thoughts that may be foolish or off the mark but are inside asking to be shared. Thank you for the learning that comes from sharing even what is foolish or off the mark.

Thank you for the capacity to communicate doubts knowing they are issues worthy to consider.

Thank you for undivided attention.

Thank you for vetiver.

Thank you for bedtime stretches.

Thank you for friends who feel like home.

Thank you for awareness of waves and ocean. Thank you for awareness of feelings and being.

Thank you for living proof all around and within us that transformation is possible.

Thank you for right consumption.

Thank you for when guilt and worry dissolve into self acceptance without judgement.

Thank you for when guilt and worry dissolve into neutral curiosity that nourishes healing.

Thank you for when we treat ourselves as gently as we treat children.

Thank you for how small and easily resolved so many “big mistakes” are once we strip them of the negative commentary that gets piled on top of them (the second, third, fourth, fifth…arrows).

Thank you for unexpected role models.

Thank you for how special it feels to hear words from a heart.

Thank you for gentle voices that reveal the disposition of their owners.

Thank you for generous hearts.

Thank you for open minds.

Thank you for how good it feels to share.

Thank you for moments when reality is better than a dream.

Thank you for natural born caregivers.

Thank you for quiet strength.

Thank you for pictures of friends far away.

Thank you for gifts from hours spent daily trying (not always with success) to have a genuine voice in a language I love to hear but that’s less natural for me to speak.

Thank you for a little break to give and get rest.

Thank you for hope to find a new language that I will be able to speak with greater ease and less confusion.

Thank you for the promise of good nights’ sleep after weeks of sleep deprivation.

Thank you for the most beautiful gifts.

Thank you for the nascent ability to set boundaries for my wellbeing despite fear of rejection for not doing things the way I assume other people want them done.

Thank you for the determination to let go of unhealthy attachment, prompted in part by a history of chasing one-sided dreams.

Thank you for the lightness in the decision to learn from the past.

Thank you for trust in kind hearts and adventuresome futures.

Thank you for how hard it is to feel lonely these days.

Thank you for how hard it is to stay sad for too long these days. Even though there is so much to be sad about, there is a lot to be grateful for, too.

Thank you for the feeling of being connected with life and with what some of us call God. (Can I get a witness!)

Thank you for the good fortune that we cannot return to how things used to be. Thank you for awareness of problems with old ways, of opportunity for new ways to be even better. Take, for instance, our habitual dependence on fossil fuels and animal agriculture. We could pine for the thrill and ease of past lifestyles. Or we could envision how beautiful, clean, happy, and safe it will be when we run our lives with the right kinds of fuels.

Thank you for Rumi’s poem, Thinking and the Heart’s Mystical Way. Thank you also for Cleansing Conflict, Duck Wisdom, Paradox, and Talking and God’s Love of Variety. Thank you for so many more I haven’t yet read.

Thank you for insights landing after the fourth or fifth reading.

Thank you for Jay Shetty’s quote on compassion (even though the word “advanced” sits uneasy with me): “I think compassion is not expecting people to be more advanced than they are.”

Thank you for kabocha taquitos. Thank you for the color inside a kabocha.

Thank you for a sweet and sassy grammy. Thank you for her only prayer request apparently answered. (The one selfish petition was that her death would come in sleep.) Thank you for her sparkly blue eyes. Thank you for her sparkly blue tricycle with the big basket on the back. Thank you for her motorcycle toots. Thank you for the endless packs of gum that gave her a minty aura even when she wasn’t chewing. Thank you for her teaching me the words turd and sexy. Thank you for the smothering hugs. Thank you for adults who treat children with kindness. Thank you for honest, simple folks living true to their values.

Thank you for simple living with complex thinking.

Thank you for all the waves on my last ride.

Thank you for nights with decent sleep.

Thank you for the feeling that it’s safe to go outside.

Thank you for longing.

Thank you for vegan enchiladas.

Thank you for virtual game nights with the ladies.

Thank you for the lonelier times of my life (partying in NYC comes to mind) because they showed me the value of kindness, friends, and family.

Thank you for healthy bodies performing magic every second.

Thank you for folks who think in gray and rainbow instead of just in black and white.

Thank you for documentaries that are educational and inspirational at once.

Thank you for Mr. Rogers.

Thank you for the unconventional (intercontinental) relationship of Calvin and DB, and for a family that seems free of judgement, full of acceptance.

Thank you for proactive, self-assured women like DB.

Thank you for men who respect women and women who respect men.

Thank you for adults who respect children.

Thank you for self-aware people using the term “non-human animals” to describe other creatures. Thank you for their acknowledgement that we’re animals too.

Thank you for the saying about providence aligning in our favor when we make difficult decisions that we feel to be right.

Thank you for how providence has aligned in my favor on rare moments when I’ve made a bold step in the direction that called me, like when I adopted a plant-based diet. (It wasn’t so difficult as I’d feared. It improved my health contrary to my expectation that the opposite would happen.)

Thank you for cooler mornings.

Thank you for shea butter.

Thank you for friends from CAT who are still in touch.

Thank you for bamboo floss.

Thank you for kitchen sounds.

Thank you for the vivid mundane memories that flash in my mind for no apparent reason.

Thank you for cashew cream.

Thank you for Sundaying on Sundays.

Thank you for happy secrets.

Thank you for ends to suffering, no matter how temporary.

Thank you for a way to express myself that feels relatively comfortable.

Thank you for reconciliation. Thank you for learning to trust and be trusted.

Thank you for the space where healing happens on its own.

Thank you for safety in an unsafe world.

Thank you for frog sounds by lakes at night.

Thank you for people who catch critters in the house and release them outside rather than killing them.

Thank you for the energy and healing of light.

Thank you for ponytails, buns, braids, baseball caps, and sun hats.

Thank you for dogs and people walking together.

Thank you for goofy album covers.

Thank you for how much cleaner it feels no longer to have a bunch of dusty old books.

Thank you for a signed contract and a spring slot on the construction calendar, after months of back and forth.

Thank you for the helpful and/or well-meaning folks at the Calabasas Department of Regional Planning one-stop shop.

Thank you for the planning guys in downtown LA taking the time not just to meet with me but to really listen and offer what aid they could.

Thank you for respect and compassion among strangers.

Thank you for Bear Canyon Arroyo.

Thank you for uphill walks, jogs, and rides.

Thank you for nail files.

Thank you for wagging tails.

Thank you for what I learned from Abdullah Zeinab’s post of his bike fitting. It came to light during the fit that his body was unusually asymmetrical, not by nature but through injury and use. Related to this, he had been riding off-center. So they taped what looked like the handle of a screwdriver into the groove that divided his saddle. He was told to ride with that little rod nestled between his cheeks. It would guide him to regain symmetry—a few weeks training like that would correct the imbalance. At first, the correction seemed awkward to him, and not just because he was cradling a rod in his cheeks. After sitting unevenly for so long, being smack in the middle felt like it must be off to the side.

My lessons gained from that episode: (1) External success does not necessarily indicate balance or wellness. (2) Sometimes, we may become twisted from avoiding pain or compensating for a past hurt. (3) When we grow used to that contorted state, then being off center feels natural, so to straighten what is crooked will feel unnatural. (4) Doing what feels totally wrong can actually be right. This fourth lesson speaks to me right now, because every time I log in to this site, I’m nervous. Every time I post, a wave of shame washes hot over me. But maybe the nervousness and shame are like Abdullah’s feeling that he was off-balance on the saddle when he was actually in the middle.

Thank you for the dedication to keep writing these even when I’m not in the mood.

Thank you for the charitable reader.

Thank you for the thought that I’d rather be vulnerable and risk playing a fool than to be “smart,” risk little, and protect my pride.

Thank you for all of us going through hard times together these days (rather than most or all of us going through hard times alone, as usual).

Thank you for a little taste of what it feels like to be displaced, especially by an event related to the climate crisis, because it helps me to relate a tiny bit to what many are going through and will go through all over the world.

Thank you for Trader Joe’s almond milk chocolate bars and for their vegetable gyoza (boiled until slippery).

Thank you for Peaches’ cuddliness.

Thank you for flax becoming linen becoming bed sheets.

Thank you for relational mindfulness.

Thank you for raindrops.

Thank you for happy elephant families.

Thank you for beautiful songs.

Thank you for beautiful human beings.

Thank you for strategies to relax.

Thank you for activities that don’t involve the use of screens or electronic devices.

Thank you for Moon’s sewing machine and the lessons learned through its use.

Thank you for Lula Mae the pothos, Verbena the dracaena, and Celeste the peace lily.

Thank you for humbling moments.

Thank you for friendships based on kindness rather than on superficial common interests or the exchange of resources.

Thank you for equanimity.

Thank you for chocolate banana smoothies.

Thank you for people who make a living helping people, and who care more about what they do than about what they get.

Thank you for how age and love can soften cantankerous personalities.

Thank you for when little things like silence and patience, maybe a few gentle questions here and there, prompt awareness in others that leads to transformation.

Thank you for times to speak out and times to listen, and for the glimmer of potential to discern the one from the other.

Thank you for when I have the awareness to realize that my mind is so confused that it’s better to remain silent.

Thank you for my future SO, who will have to be exceptionally understanding and patient to be with me, since some of my relationship ways are slightly stunted from having seen practice only long ago, before my wellness routines took hold.

Thank you for the capacities to learn and grow.

Thank you for my love of independence and alone time taming my needy, clingy sides.

Thank you for when facing our own insecurities helps others realize and acknowledge theirs.

Thank you for indirect communication.

Thank you for misunderstandings that gradually push communication forward and ultimately bring people closer.

Thank you for direct communication.

Thank you for how, with certain situations, I’m much better at one small step at a time than I am at diving in head first (although I try to force myself to dive into deep ends).

Thank you for the realization that I still try too hard to please others, from insecurities, rather than choosing what is best for me, and that doing so still makes situations worse, and that it’s not a fatal flaw, and that there are alternative options.

Thank you for love, less as a feeling and more as an action.

Thank you for love as a feeling and a doing, that’s more valuable than material wealth.

Thank you for long distance friendships.

Thank you for when Julie texts just to tell me she loves me.

Thank you for loving friendships.

Thank you for unconditional acceptance of the present and the future, even of so-called natural disasters and total failure.

Thank you for moments of clarity that come with fasting, meditation, and prayer.

Thank you for “Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out.”

Thank you for the men and women who draw out the deep water.

Thank you for time and space to think.

Thank you for the human capacity to give the benefit of the doubt and use the principle of charity.

Thank you for comfort with ambiguity.

Thank you for the understanding that we don’t understand.

Thank you for vegan dog food.

Thank you for healthy dogs, unaware that they’re vegan, simply enjoying their meals.

Thank you for the anchor of daily routines that keeps wellness from drifting out of sight.

Thank you for memories of entering a crowded grocery store with a naked face and touching items on the shelves with reckless abandon.

Thank you for memories of being affectionate with strangers, like on my birthday last year when I decided to gift random people with hugs.

Thank you for memories of sweating in the sauna.

Thank you for how appetizing Veggie Grill seems now that it’s out of reach.

Thank you for burritos with French fries inside and hot sauce on every bite.

Thank you for the stereotype that Californians love avocados.

Thank you for baby steps leading to a tiny house.

Thank you for the opportunity to move back “home,” tempered with awareness that home is wherever I choose love and seek purpose.

Thank you for persistence.

Thank you for patience.

Thank you for promises of greater independence.

Thank you for scents of plants while out on walks.

Thank you for clean toilets.

Thank you for warm water.

Thank you for coyote sitings on bike rides.

Thank you for all of us beings on this planet together.

Thank you for small footprints.

Thank you for secondhand shopping online.

Thank you for used trainers.

Thank you for the sounds that animals make in the wild.

Thank you for the sounds that children make in backyards, especially when a swimming pool is involved.

Thank you for gargoyles.

Thank you for old architecture still intact.

Thank you for World War II documentaries and books.

Thank you for the unconventional life and love of Virginia Hall.

Thank you for courage to do the right thing in the face of grave consequences.

Thank you for small habits that build noble character.

Thank you for when I lighten up.

Thank you for the hardware that holds up shelves and such.

Thank you for vegan mammoul.

Thank you for time to recover from a draining office job.

Thank you for shampoo bars that actually work.

Thank you for funnies.

Thank you for the guy who almost hit me in the crosswalk, driving while on his cellphone, because he was so apologetic about it.

Thank you for drivers who make efforts to give pedestrians and cyclists their due right of way.

Thank you for the warmth and satisfaction of talking with strangers when you’ve been deprived of social interaction.

Thank you for body lotion.

Thank you for electrolyte drinks.

Thank you for Candide.

Thank you for cricket chirps.

Thank you for the practice of showing love every day with those around us.

Thank you for the possibility of a restful night.

Thank you for when there is clear headspace to think.

Thank you for when there is stability.

Thank you for our capacity to see others’ points of view, or at least to realize that those points of view are very different from what we may assume them to be.

Thank you for a village of caring family and friends.

Thank you for everything being ok even if it’s not ok.

Thank you for the happier days.

Thank you for the peaceful days.

Thank you for hunger when there is food available.

Thank you for another safe ride.

Thank you for deluges of love and confusion.

Thank you for when head spins slow down.

Thank you for desert sunsets.

Thank you for the feeling of being soaked in gentle heat and light.

Thank you for musical instruments.

Thank you for real life ghost stories shared by people who don’t believe in ghosts.

Thank you for learning new languages.

Thank you for love languages.

Thank you for languages of love.

Thank you for faith in the capacity to learn and understand.

Thank you for clean laundry.

Thank you for the smell of tea tree oil.

Thank you for crispy, crunchy, and chewy.

Thank you for singing birds on morning walks.

Thank you for online bill pay.

Thank you for heart emojis.

Thank you for the impermanence of tan lines.

Thank you for feelings of freedom.

Thank you for more freedom as a woman here and now than in other places and at other times.

Thank you for people whose vision of a just future inspires actions to realize that future.

Thank you for the orange line, and for all of the friendly exchanges between strangers on its buses.

Thank you for every single person on earth speaking a (sometimes slightly) different language. Thank you for how each of us tries to translate what we hear others say, so that we understand it in our own personal language. Thank you for how we also try to translate what we think or feel from our personal language into a shared language that others will understand.

Thank you for the art of communication.

Thank you for tahini sauce.

Thank you for pleasing color combinations.

Thank you for accordions and for those who play them.

Thank you for polka dots.

Thank you for whimsy.

Thank you for soundproof rooms.

Thank you for bathroom fans.

Thank you for overwhelming gifts.

Thank you for fana and baqa.

Thank you for full journal pages.

Thank you for women who run businesses, like Elyse at Minimaliste.

Thank you for us humans supporting each other through life.

Thank you for (r)evolutions in consciousness.

Thank you for mystics. Thank you for laborers. Thank you for mystics who are also laborers.

Thank you for Rumi.

Thank you for when the temperature in the room is just right without any help from AC, fan, or heat.

Thank you for the many shapes that pasta comes in and for the cute names attached to those shapes.

Thank you for that feeling of being clean inside from eating whole plant foods, exercising, and staying hydrated.

Thank you for epic love stories.

Thank you for men with the courage to be vulnerable in a society that discourages it.

Thank you for another stereotype: the confidence of French women to age gracefully with style.

Thank you for the beauty of differences and the vibrance of cultures.

Thank you for a heart that is falling back into a smooth rhythm after a period of instability..

Thank you for beginnings.

Thank you for Sister being in a good mood today.

Thank you for my being easy on myself even though I kind of feel like I’ve been letting me down lately.

Thank you for refugees who are able to rebuild their lives in peace.

Thank you for belly buttons—for how cute they can be.

Thank you for the mood lift that comes with watching Tabitha Brown videos.

Thank you for serious (positive) impacts of humor.

Thank you for when devices and gadgets function as intended.

Thank you for nightgowns.

Thank you for nightstands.

Thank you for how there are words to denote things that belong to the night, as though that time of day is a distinct realm with its own dedicated objects and creatures.

Thank you for peaceful nights that lead to happy mornings that carry over to productive days that roll back out to peaceful nights. 

Thank you for if the power of suggestion causes the above cycle to apply to you.

Thank you for anyone other than myself who somehow may benefit from something shared here.

Thank you for aimless walks with Peaches.

Thank you for how much we gain by doing less.

Thank you for our growing awareness that our individual actions impact the entire world.

Thank you for our growing awareness that we share our space, that all of our wellbeings are intertwined and all of us deserve a space to thrive.

Thank you for the opportunity within crisis to prompt lasting change for common good.

Thank you for learning that flows from difficult lessons.

Thank you for unselfish, realistic optimism.

Thank you for miso ramen.

Thank you for free online yoga videos.

Thank you for intuition and divine guidance, and for trust in something greater than ourselves.

Thank you for the lucky happy feeling nature’s beauty inspires, like how it feels to catch sight of a rainbow or a dolphin or a deer.

Thank you for raspberries and for raspberries with chocolate.

Thank you for Unity booch.

Thank you for insights and solutions that land on us without our trying or choosing.

Thank you for faith that the insights and solutions are on their way when we don’t yet see them.

Thank you for kisses from Peaches.

Thank you for quiet nights.

Thank you for warm baths.

Thank you for caring neighbors.

Thank you for people who wave.

Thank you for windy bike rides.

Thank you for old books that speak the living words of dead people.

Thank you for quick-drying towels.

Thank you for leaves.

Thank you for the awe of thunder and lightning.

Thank you for favors received and favors paid forward.

Thank you for thoughtful surprises.

Thank you for falling down and getting back up again and again and again and again…

Thank you for animals living in harmony with other animals.

Thank you for velvet hums in still rooms.

Thank you for the dream of floating on the ocean and the water got too deep too fast and the waves crashed willy nilly and a shark fin peeked up and I knew that I was in strange territory and I knew that I was afraid.

Thank you for an active imagination.

Thank you for the blissful calm of a warm blanket.

Thank you for the power of music to have its way with our hearts.

Thank you for prickly succulents.

Thank you for forgiveness.

Thank you for faith.

Thank you for when slow motion dreams call for patience.

Thank you for today.

Thank you for tomorrow.

Thank you for clean air to breathe.

Thank you for when Peaches rolls on her back and stretches one paw or two, and I rub her tummy.

Thank you for a dad who loved me.

Thank you for the spicy-fresh taste of arugula that lingers like a funky breath mint.

Thank you for hill repeats.

Thank you for spare tubes.

Thank you for texts with Anita.

Thank you for texts with Sister.

Thank you for texts with Moon.

Thank you for alone time outside.

Thank you for people who find love.

Thank you for the Santa Monica Mountains.

Thank you for the Sandia Mountains.

Thank you for the eucalyptus trees at the lot, for how peaceful it feels to watch their branches sway and to breathe them in.

Thank you for changing seasons.

Thank you for strength to keep moving forward even the tiniest amount.

Thank you for an organized closet.

Thank you for dark chocolate.

Thank you for facial expressions on dogs—especially surprise.

Thank you for the way LEDs light a room.

Thank you for home-cooked meals.

Thank you for neighbors who give you their old sweaters that they don’t wear anymore.

Thank you for fresh cracked pepper.

Thank you for the word “hugelkultur.”

Thank you for elderly folks who watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy on the reg.

Thank you for cats on leashes and for cats running free.

Thank you for the possibility of what seems impossible.

Thank you for Cali.

Thank you for UCLA.

Thank you for redwoods and beaches and winding mountain roads.

Thank you for fresh produce and local wine and warm smiles.

Thank you for innovation and role models.

Thank you for can-do attitudes.

Thank you for compostable poop bags.

Thank you for clean water.

Thank you for hair and nails that grow.

Thank you for YouTube videos on how to cut your own hair.

Thank you for empty journal pages.

Thank you for uplifting messages like “inspiration is everywhere” and “greet the unexpected boldly” debossed on pencils.

Thank you for irreverent greeting cards.

Thank you for the good kind of poetry.

Thank you for the word “antiquity” in French (antiquité).

Thank you for a dream of a pet bull (Ferdinand!), gleefully adored, even if he did have a little bit of bullshit smeared down his bottom.

Thank you for vegan takeout.

Thank you for El Dorado.

Thank you for the surplus of Juans in ABQ.

Thank you for light jokes and deep laughter.

Thank you for weirds.

Thank you for Jenny Slate’s stories.

Thank you for the feeling of I have enough already.

Thank you for heavy eyelids.

Thank you for when it’s easy to fall asleep.

Thank you for night toots.

Thank you for dogs dreaming out loud.