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.