There are some days when there isn’t much to say.
So we give gratitude, for all that is, and all that isn’t.
Today, I give gratitude to:
A hot shower at the beginning and end of the day, to soothe aching muscles and a weary heart;
Clean sheets and a soft bed;
Food, served on a table, and to be able to have a seat at the table, to be able to share in communion, and for friends and family to share this communion with;
The full moon, as a reminder that there is always light, even in darkness (perhaps, especially in darkness);
Ruby red wine, a reminder of heady times of love and seduction and lust and companionship;
The blazing sun, that gives life, and shade, that provides respite for burning skin;
A thirst for knowledge, and the ability to learn something new every day, to keep the mind and the soul constantly seeking, searching, wandering;
For conversations with strangers that may never repeat to remind you of kinship, ever elusive, but ever present;
Poetry, the language for those who yearn;
Friends, across time-zones and across countries who rally together as sisters and brothers and lovers, a singular omnipresence;
The smells of lavender, and eucalyptus, and lemon grass, and sage, and rosewood as reminders of divinity even here, on Earth;
Art, as a reminder to live, and life, the fuel to create good art;
The lover, for Being;
The present, as Truth;
The body, as Temple;
The mind, Existence;
This universe, Home;
This heart, Tenacious;
You, for You;
Me, for Me.