Thank you for Jesus’ sacrifice and love inspiring our better selves. Thank you for distant figures who touch lives across space and time without connecting on a physical level.

Thank you for brief glimpses of how truly fortunate I am. 

Thank you for the ability to chew with the teeth on the left and the ones on the right. 

Thank you for when I remember to chew well instead of scarfing because I’m so worried about stuff to do.

Thank you for fresh ginger.

Thank you for when Peaches is up for a long walk.

Thank you for huge breakfasts with a rainbow of fruits and veggies.

Thank you for repeated efforts to be more productive.

Thank you for smiles so big they squish tears from their upstairs neighbors.

Thank you for my dad demanding, “Please, God, give me patience—and give it to me now!”

Thank you for crusty bread. Thank you for effort in climbs. Thank you for questions without clear answers.

Thank you for the term dipper gourd.

Thank you for cranberry orange smoothies.

Thank you for the vibrance of cranberries and kabocha.

Thank you for mood boosts from jogging uphill. If you feel discouraged, it helps to find a hill and practice jogging up. Confidence also goes up as the jog gets easier with repeated effort. You start to believe that you can be on better terms with other unwelcoming landscapes, too.

Thank you for hope and equanimity.

Thank you for hunger at bedtime that fades without being fed.

Thank you for instant pot kitchari. 

Thank you for sweats and tanks and sockless feet.

Thank you for lines to vote.

Thank you for creative gifts. 

Thank you for deep waters. 

Thank you for deep breaths. 

Thank you for star watching even though I never know what I’m looking at.

Thank you for the trip to the observatory when Julie and her family visited LA. We saw the moon through a new lens.

Thank you for fantasies of simple pleasures.

Thank you for simple pleasures. 

Thank you for Elodie at Minimaliste helping to design the house, and for the collaborative process with her and Elyse. Thank you for a productive phone meeting, for how thorough and caring they are.

Thank you for the lemon tree at the lot. Hopefully it’s still alive. Thank you for the clipping from that tree growing downstairs. Thank you for my dad tending to the tree as long as he could.

Thank you for decisions thoughtfully made. 

Thank you for the heat making it sound and smell like a hotel (not a gross one) here in my room.

Thank you for editing, of which I could use more.

Thank you for multiple drafts because the first few usually benefit from a whole lot of revision.

Thank you for when people talk without thinking about what they’re going to say and somehow it turns out ok.

Thank you for awareness when I feel overwhelmed. Thank you for when there is patience with myself. Thank you for when there is patience with others.

Thank you for imaginations. 

Thank you for a weekend laying tiles with Sister and her Jeff at our place.

Thank you for the uplifting songs to spirit us through it.

Thank you for shimmies and booty shakes.

Thank you for thought involved in DIY projects. 

Thank you for learning new skills. 

Thank you for people who are generous with their time and effort. 

Thank you for grouting tiles with Sister and a Dolly Parton documentary. 

Thank you for likely Peaches’ first walk in snow, even though she didn’t seem to enjoy it. It was still a new experience that she can cross off her bucket list.

Thank you for slow motion silent snowflakes.

Thank you for cozy coats and gloves. 

Thank you for hot chocolate. 

Thank you for accomplishments when you feel like doing nothing.

Thank you for when we make good on past promises despite no obligation to do so.

Thank you for messages sent and received.

Thank you for the feeling of being appreciated and cared for .

Thank you for magic connections, no matter how ephemeral.

Thank you for the times I’m worried a friend is mad at me for saying or doing the wrong thing, when instead he or she is happy.

Thank you for “You do you.”

Thank you for “‘Cause that’s my business.”

Thank you for awareness of problems leading to focus on solutions.

Thank you for kabocha taquitos sounding weird but tasting yummy.

Thank you for when I don’t beat myself up over mistakes.

Thank you for the latest insight that shame in me burns almost like a deep hunger pang. It also shows up in tightness around the neck and shoulders. As for the gut hurt, when I’m already hungry, the shame feels worse because it amplifies a dull discomfort that’s already there.

Thank you for how blue the sky was today.

Thank you for live streamed jazz concerts.

Thank you for Peaches rolling in the grass on her bath day, so the stink will only be temporary.

Thank you for freedom from a recurring caffeine withdrawal migraine.

Thank you for warm blanket.

Thank you for anyone who values honesty.

Thank you for everyone who likes to think.

Thank you for optimistic dispositions that aren’t fake or selfish and are genuine and selfless.

Thank you for rewarding rides.

Thank you for xylophones and vibraphones.

Thank you for doing jigsaw puzzles with the family.

Thank you for all of us who value meeting basic wellness needs (regular eating and drinking, bathroom breaks, movement…) over other “important” tasks—like business meetings that run into lunchtimes, for example.

Thank you for the Dalai Lama’s canceled appearance at UCLA years ago. It spurred new thoughts on setting priorities.

Thank you for so many events held at UCLA that have inspired and educated.

Thank you for one-ply TP.

Thank you for quarancuts on dogs and humans going ok enough, and for the prospect of never having to pay for a haircut or to leave my dog at the groomer’s again.

Thank you for the little brown bird that landed on my arm in Palm Springs when I was opening the gate to the swimming pool. I’m sorry I shook you off. I wasn’t expecting you so close, and it scared me. Thinking of your nearness so long ago still feels lucky.

Thank you for the mood lift that comes after a hard workout.

Thank you for freedom to be a cheeseball if that’s how I want to be.

Thank you for “Let music loosen our deafness to spirit. Play and let play.” (Rumi).

Thank you for the twisted comfort I felt after looking up how long Hitler was in power. After well over a decade of him and his enablers scarring our world with a new landscape of tragedies, his reign finally passed. May scars, fresh and old, remind us to love.

Thank you for term limits.

Thank you again for efforts at equanimity. 

Thank you for the awareness of the urge to run from perceived challenges, and of the past consequences of my haste to escape, leaping from one difficult situation into a worse one. Then again, although patience can be helpful in challenging circumstances, at times it’s better to go anywhere at all than to stay stuck. At times, one must step in the direction that seems like forward and then keep moving from there.

Thank you for Rumi’s The Way That Moves As You Move.

And for the passage from One Human Gesture, “Spirit is the art of making what’s blocked start moving again.”

And for the passage from Being Slow to Blame, “There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen to that as your personal self breaks open. Taste the silence in the oil of a nut. That sweet joy is the reason we bother with walnut-rattling words at all. Hear the ecstatic dumbness inside poetry and discourses on mystery. For one day try not speaking!”