Thank you for the optimism to be pessimistic—to say less than positive things with faith that it’ll be ok, regardless.

Thank you for a list to look back on as a reminder of how to care for myself. Most of it seems obvious—but if were obvious, you’d think it would have consistent implementation:

• Sleep well.

• Eat fruits, veggies, whole grains, and legumes, in close to their whole state—make sure to consume hefty amounts of leafy greens and berries.

• Stay hydrated.

• Meditate daily and practice mindfulness throughout the day.

• Try to soak up nature and sunshine regularly.

• Move the body and push it regularly.

• Seek challenges to stimulate the mind.

• Explore, articulate, and accept feelings, painful and pleasant.

• Push out of comfort zones.

• Give back and forward.

• Consciously move away from less healthy habits (that may have short-term rewards but are less sustainable over time) and toward habits with long-term benefits. Let the healthy ones naturally crowd out the less healthy ones.

• Enjoy the company of trusted friends. (It’s been lonely when trusted friends were hard to find. But healthier practices attracted them.)

Thank you for conscious, persistent efforts to choose better. Do I take the pain killer or feel the pain? Daily mental effort involves pausing to consider how I’ll feel the following hours or day or days afterward, or how I’ll feel overall if the thing I’m doing just this once becomes a habit. Sometimes I imagine if a tragedy struck or the world ended while doing this, how would I feel? There’s more to it than that.

Thank you for this paraphrased quote by some Thurman guy:  “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

Thank you for thoughts that relieve pressure. Like the thought that if my fate was to commit suicide and instead I end up not only dying naturally (or by accident) but also doing even the tiniest good with the life lived beyond my doomed destiny—then I’m way ahead. So I don’t have to save the whole world. Yes, the whole world needs saving, but I can just do something, anything, good. That is a big accomplishment for me. Loving my dog or sharing healthy food or letting people know I appreciate them or being nice to someone who’s grumpy is a start. I don’t need an awesome job that sounds impressive. I can try a job that does a little good.

Thank you for new insights from listening to Andrew Huberman on the Rich Roll Podcast. Two highlights for me were the notion of gap effects to facilitate learning and the physiological sigh to induce calm.

Thank you for rants that sprouted from a fast.

Thank you for dogs that enjoy plant-based diets.

Thank you for strength.

Thank you for time off to heal from the traumas of an unhealthy workplace and society.

Thank you for that constant rushed feeling slowly diminishing. Days can actually unfold according to schedule. Birds don’t need caffeine to boost them through the day, or artificial lights because they still have loads to do after the sun goes down. Dolphins aren’t lazy for playing in the waves. Look at nature. I’d say that it is pathological to feel constantly rushed, that we are never enough or never on time. My thought is that to be at ease much of our lives may actually be the right feeling, the healthy way. The trick is to find ease and spread it around.

Thank you for lush green mountains that are actually hills.

Thank you for awareness of others’ (and my) less healthy parts coupled with appreciation of their (and my) more healthy parts, and acceptance of all combined.

Thank you for how good it felt to apologize to a neighbor at Seminole (esp. since the apology was accepted).

Thank you for gyms and treadmills.

Thank you for workouts to Jesus’ music.

Thank you for RB always.

Thank you for someone stimulating and kind to listen to.

Thank you for someone who may be listening to me.

Thank you for the mood lift from 10-20 minutes of running.

Thank you for afternoon visits to Abby’s.

Thank you for caring friends.

Thank you for communities large and small.

Thank you for wise advice from neighbors.

Thank you for days when it’s cool enough that Peaches doesn’t pant.

Thank you for aid organizations.

Thank you for healing from trauma.

Thank you for feelings of calm.

Thank you for well-stocked grocery stores (healthy stuff).

Thank you for accessible health care.

Thank you for the services and structures that allow us a measure of freedom, comfort, and safety.

Thank you for sweet doggies and for those lucky enough to be cared for by them. Thank you for friends and family whose pooches are their universe.

Thank you for the mystery and confusion of being alive.