As many days as possible, I list six distinct things for which I’m grateful. The list is archived monthly.
Here’s April 2012 . . .
My blue mug. Ruby’s fur. Ellie’s demeanor. Our patio. The work I’m late for as I type. Minty toothpaste.
Laurel. Antara. Megan. Erin. Stacey. Rachelle.
Hearing the woman say to the man, “How did you learn how to use that?” Hearing the man order 41 large pizzas from the woman: 10 cheese, 7 pepperoni, 7 pepperoni and sausage, 7 with every meat she had available, 5 Hawaiian, 4 veggie, and 1 with veggies and NO cheese. Buying 15 lbs of Matzo at my neighborhood Ralph’s for our friends whose grocery stores lack. The nice people who helped me find it. This Ted talk I’m about to watch. The sunlight on Ruby’s face right now.
The number 3 next to the elevator door. The chipping paint on the three. All the numbers next to all elevator doors. All the numbers next to buttons inside elevators. The people who thought to put the numbers in those places. The people who actually put the numbers in those places.
The seder with friends. Spending time with dear S and her 8-year-old, five-year-old and two-year-old boys. Boys. Story time. Having enough. Book talk.
Creating a blog post even though I nearly gave up several times. A cheerful walk to the market. My private thoughts. My back pack that holds lots of groceries. Garlic. Dinner with Andy.
That the woman with the mental disorder didn’t hunt me down after I changed tables at lunch yesterday. The waiter who helped me change tables. The opportunity to ask the question: how do we practice compassion when we feel unsafe? Time to read more of Clash of Kings in an attempt to stay ahead of HBO. A four mile walk. Gardens.
Evolving software that makes my work more fun. Mutually beneficial goals. Encouragement. That gorgeous black dog standing halfway out the truck window with the wind blowing in his fur. TJ’s organic craisin nut mix. Comfortable clothing.
The overdue hug from my soul mate. Her tears. My tears. The friends we gathered with. That warm bread. Patio heaters.
Thunder. Rain jacket. Hood. Vitamin water. Lisa. Kung Pao Tofu.
A private place to enjoy the sun. Our mandevilla came back. The rose bush came back. The ache that human bodies aren’t perennial like my plants. Constant remembering. That we can be grateful for even the ache.
Time to write a poem. Time to take a walk in super pleasant weather. Allowing myself to choose not to put CPR on this list even though it just saved the life of a pretty wonderful person. That person’s life. The life that wasn’t saved. Allowing myself to feel what I feel.
No traffic on the 405. Safe freeway driving. Murals on buildings. Meeting more nice clients. The Last Bookstore. Dinner with a wonderful friend.
A day of rest with Andy.
Strawberry pancakes. Lunch under a big tree on the patio at Moretin Fig. The Festival of Books. Neuroscience. Sun dresses. Amplification.
Billable hours. Nice people to work with. Ocean view drives. Feeling loved. Therapists. Walks.
Driving alongside the Pacific coast. The sun, low over the ocean. Clients who offer a beer two hours before quitting time. Ruby’s strange meow when she’s playing fetch. Dry cleaners. Telephones.
Elizabeth & our coffee date. Alyson & her tweets. Ronda & her FB updates. Cafes. Twitter. Facebook.
Living in a safe place. All that Andy does for me. That another gallery has recognized David’s wonderful paintings. David’s paintings. Talking to Dad on the phone. The generous gift that’s allowing us to plan to use our passports at last.