The wee hours are a fine time to focus on thankfulness. Here’s what spilled out of my pen one late night/early morning last week:
I’m thankful that life isn’t all good but that most of it is.
I’m thankful that not all people are good but that most are.
I’m thankful that the measure of a life isn’t determined by a happy ending.
I’m thankful that seasons change before too long, especially after it changes to my least favorite.
I’m thankful that the glass of life is half empty, because that means it’s also half full.
I’m thankful that hunger intensifies the flavor of food,
That silence intensifies both the beauty of sound for grateful ears that hear.
I’m thankful that warmth feels so comforting after cold,
That cool feels blissful after blistering heat.
I’m thankful that lessons hard won last long,
That winning happens seldom enough to matter,
That winning transpires even after you lose,
That in losing, you can still succeed.
I’m thankful that life has more than one dimension,
That we can feel the freedom of flowing through space,
That bodies, sometimes aided by mechanical support, defy gravity — with myriad degrees of grace,
That happiness defies gravity too,
That life is hard but, occasionally, unexpectedly, easy,
That the simpler, usually, is better, but simplistic, generally, is not,
That solitude is the GPS that steers us to the safe harbor of friendship.
I’m thankful that darkness magnifies light,
That light magnifies vision,
That night is soothing and a front-row seat to the greatest show off Earth.
I’m thankful that dreaming gives the mind room to stretch its wings,
And occasionally to soar,
That when dreams are unsettling, waking is relief.
I’m thankful that the mind and heart at times reconcile,
That music paves the path between them,
That noise sets the stage for music, which improves listening,
That music leads to musings that salve the soul,
That dancing leads to wrestling and wrestling leads to more dancing.
I’m thankful that mistakes lead to learning and learning produces better mistakes,
That our errors aren’t always correctable yet can lead to better-than-hoped-for results,
That incorrectness is often in the mind of the beholder,
That regrets fuel amends.
I’m thankful that suffering sometimes leads to suffering less,
That suffering generates compassion,
That pain leads to healing,
That time heals and reveals,
That true love ripens, that wisdom is the well-spring of experience, that aging cures and mellows.
I’m thankful that ripening leads to rotting, which leads to compost, which enriches the Earth.
I’m thankful that, through sheer repetition, life cycles afford chances to do things better,
That it allows wrongs to be righted and reusing what is broken to fashion something newly useful.
I’m thankful happiness is momentary and temporary, so we can never take it for granted,
That we don’t live happily ever after but happily sometimes after.
I’m thankful that the young are not the sole beneficiaries of fun and youth is not the sole province of the young.
I’m thankful that death drives us to choose living,
That one life ripples, echoes, leaves a mark,
That meaning and beauty make living worthwhile,
That laughter is medicinal,
That sorrow and joy are flip sides of the coin of this realm.
I’m thankful to be a grain of sand in a material universe and a drop of water in an ocean of consciousness,
That giving feels good, that we need each other, that loneliness leads to gathering,
And that gathering is the gateway to thanksgiving.