Saying “Thank You”

 Make a habit out of celebrating the small moments in healing, gratitude, and growth.   Alex Elle

Everyone has them—those moments of “Ah!” The times when we just feel comfortable in the present, at peace with what is, when we have a sense of all being well. It may be fleeting, but there’s something there which cannot be denied. Those are the moments I want to be aware of, to notice in real time rather than in retrospect.

I think it takes practice to notice them. I also find that it’s a very worthwhile practice. We are bombarded with so much which can cause confusion, anger, discontent. It I were to only pay attention to those things, I’d be a sorry combination of anger and hopelessness. I choose a different way.

I make a practice of saying “Thank you” many times throughout my days. Thank you for a working vehicle. Thank you for the close parking place when I need one. Thank you for the clouds and their wispy beauty, thank you for the clear sky, thank you for the rain. Thank you for food in my pantry, and thank you for the grocery gift bags I can purchase with most visits to the store. Thank you for all the easy ways I can be an agent of kindness, even when I don’t know the recipient. Thank you for my morning coffee and the fresh breeze through the balcony door while I enjoy it.

All the things, all the time. The lessons in the discomfort, the fact that ‘this too shall pass’. The lessons in setting boundaries for myself and honoring those of others. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It’s just a simple little phrase, but it’s one with great power. Thank you for that.

Instruments of God’s Peace

 Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace….  The prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

There’s more than enough anger in the atmosphere. I can only see to my own mood, so I am choosing to be a lightworker—a light in the darkness. I will endeavor to set judgements aside for now, in order to concentrate on peace.

What might happen if everyone chose peace? What would happen to our world? The possibility is almost beyond hope, but still—“let there be peace on Earth, and may it begin with me”. Let it begin with me. I am the only person I can influence, so I want to be part of the solution.

Today, I will show kindness to all. Today I will have gratitude for my abundance, and I will attempt to put it into a semblance of order. May order within create order without. If it starts with me, I charge myself with the task of embodying peace.

When I start falling out of peace, I will take a moment to sit quietly and simply be thankful for my life—for my family, my friends, for all that I’ve been given. 

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace. 💚🌏🌎🌍💚

When the Ole Body Aches

I’m so very glad that I am no longer expected to be present at a job during prescribed hours! Retirement is a dandy place to be—I can go shopping, visit a museum, see a movie, stay home and bake or create another way—any time I want. It’s simply fabulous!

Retirement also gives me the freedom to simply be. There doesn’t need to be any doing, especially when my body, sometimes forcibly, says “now you will rest”. There are no doctor’s permission slips, no explaining to a boss why I can’t work today; I am only answerable to myself.

These days, I’m nursing bursitis in my hip, alongside the “normal” woes of an aging body. I am very fortunate to be able to do just that—to rest and repair. I’ll continue to do so, while seeing to the commitments I’ve made. 

It seems that I still push myself beyond my limits, which is good in an athlete or a scholar, but not so much for me. What I’m learning, more forcefully as time marches on, is to pace myself, and to give in gracefully to the need to rest. I’m not saying that I intend to just fold up and give in, but rather to go with the flow of what is presented to me. I want to remember to ask myself how, given how well I’m functioning, I can continue to grow and learn and give of myself.

It’s a changeable thing, but one where I get to say “when”.

That’s where I feel gratitude today; in the freedom to simply feel what I feel, and to know that all is well.

Gratitude Persists

 I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.   William Tecumseh Sherman

I am weary from the news, but I feel like I must pay attention. I don’t take on the misery; I hold the hurting in the sacred space they need, while living my life as well as possible. I owe that to the lost, who have no life to live anymore. I choose not to desire vengeance (usually), but to pray for Peace. 

Meanwhile, in living my life, I choose to find the immediate good, the things in my present which fill me with a positive attitude. I see this as honoring the fallen, to continue to live well and find happiness where I can.

Today I am grateful for my own safety. I am grateful for food and shelter. I’m grateful that I don’t need to cringe or hide when I hear a jet overhead. I’m lifted by the sounds of laughter and busyness beneath my balcony as neighbors get together to sell off some of their abundance. We are so very blessed!

Today, I will remember this as I slide into my comfortable routines, while acknowledging that everything can change in the moment of a heartbeat.

Selah

O Hot Tub, My Hot Tub

 O Spa!

You wait, gently, while I ache—

I ache to feel your warmth—

Your gently bubbling liquid love.

The sun teases me—

It knows I prefer the shade.

The sun has burnt me—

But, O Hot Tub, you never have.

Your warmth is perfection

To my muscles

And my joints.

Soon, my Darling,

Soon.

I will don the sacred outfit

And I will return to your healing embrace.

How vital you are

To my very well-being!

Soon, soon, my love.

Home Again, Home Again

 I’ll be flying home this afternoon, after a wonderful visit to my childhood homeland. I love Colorado! I love being from here and visiting, and I love going back home to Sacramento, the Sacred City. 

This is the land of 4-wheel drives and ice breakers in the garages. It’s the high-altitude air and gorgeous blue skies. It’s where my parents, one from Missouri and one from Western Australia, chose to raise their children. It’s the place of the sweetest memories of picnics in the mountains, the adults playing cards while all the kids scattered to explore trails and splash in the freezing cold creeks. It’s the sound of my dad bellowing for us to return, and oh, how he could yell!

Today, though, I get to return to the place where I’ve landed and made my life, back to my cozy apartment and my Callie Cat, back to my own bed, my friends, my hot tub(!) and my volunteer duties. I’m recharged and ready to go. 

I’m so very grateful that I am in a position where I can occasionally travel and where I can do the things which nourish my soul. I’m grateful to have the freedom to listen to my body, and when it says I need to pull back and rest, I can do so. I’m grateful for the hugs of my sons, and for time with my brother. I would choose him for brother all over again!

Today I’ll be home, and it’s a lovely place to be.

Our Pets

 I’m watching my brother interact with his fur pals, finned ones, and a bird. It really is sweet! They ask so little, yet offer so much, in terms of unconditional love (mostly—cats can be funny). He credits his fur babies with keeping him going when the darkness of loss threatened to envelop him.

I watched my son with his dogs, and saw the results of his gecko breeding project. They can be amazingly gorgeous with their color variations. The geckos were well-cared for, and his doggos were happy little (ok,     not so little) tail-waggers.

I have my Callie Cat at home being lovingly cared for, and I look forward to her plopping into my lap at the inopportune times she picks. She’s a delight to play with as she jumps, summersaults, and stalks her toys. Life is simply sweeter with a pet!

Today, I feel gratitude for the love of and for our pets. It’s a joy both simple and profound 😻