If you wish to make Pythocles rich, do not add to his store of money, but subtract from his desires. — Epicurus 

Thank you for alternate definitions of riches. Thank you for awareness of the (in some sense privileged) option either to perpetually grasp or to practice contentment, share privilege, invest in equality…

Thank you for these rambling jumbles.

Thank you for Sisters’ wisdom restoring wellness.

Thank you again for rides in the Santa Monica Mountains.

Thank you for butterscotch-scented flowers.

Thank you for a woodpecker fly-by across the oak canopy on Mulholland near Kanan.

Thank you for choices (not abundant but important).

Thank you for books transporting minds.

Thank you for chats with good friends over lunch, over the phone, on walks, with tea…

Thank you for chats with like-minded strangers across the country. 

Thank you for greater focus on values. 

Thank you for my values having a voice lately in multiple ways (meaningful conversations, house business, volunteering...). Thank you if it continues.

Thank you for mini-splits with lower-GWP refrigerant. 

Thank you for peeling out of a comfort zone to be more civically engaged.

Thank you for recording and celebrating efforts for good. What we focus on grows!

Thank you for gains measured against not future ideals but advancement (however gradual or non-linear) from pasts.

Thank you for shuddhosi buddhosi.

Thank you for thoughts about toaster ovens and other (less-essential) appliances. Maybe we accumulate all sorts of doodads because a few folks want to make money off of them. So they convince us that our lives will be better if we buy what they sell. The good news is, as long as we work to be happy with our proper lives, we’re more likely to take a pass on those offers.

Thank you for the whole world benefitting from our happiness with less. 

Thank you for the new roomie letting life be fun again. Thank you for the fun of friendships.

Thank you for years sort of in limbo to cultivate appreciation of home. 

Thank you for those who make our homes not just possible but safe, beautiful, comfortable.

Thank you again for the one who taught us that with each step “I have arrived; I am home.” Maybe I shared this thought before. Toward the end of his life, he requested a move back to the monastery in Vietnam where he’d started as a young monk. To me that’s telling (although I’m making unverified assumptions).

Home is in every step. And, for some of us, home is also a particular little nook that cradles us between our intimacy with the past and our vision of the future.

Thank you for environmental stewardship springing from that link with place over time.

Thank you for a reason to believe in transformation. Often instead of an extraordinary feat, all change requires is literally that: changing. It only seems big because it’s different. I’d like to focus on embracing different.

Thank you for oats in varied forms. Thank you for their scent.

Thank you for when my suffering uncovers my strength.

Thank you for the Your Brain On Introversion podcast.

Thank you for issues as unrecognized strengths—take the mind that is easily bored or craves stimulation, that when uninspired, spirals emotions down with it. That discontented mind may be the sign of lots of things, more or less healthy. For instance, it may belong to a healthy, deep-capacity thinker. What if some parts of you are less than satisfied simply because they crave greater and more profound meaning (with connection)? 

Thank you for moderate comfort.

Thank you for learning what windows to open and close at which times of day to keep our homes comfortable.

Thank you for a funny lesson about fear playing games. (Be nice about it, please…) Seeking a new outlet years ago, I was so afraid of what would happen if I caught a wave, that when I did go for one, my foot would unconsciously dig in the water to make it harder for my arms.

Thank you for wellness efforts focused on food, sleep, mindfulness, visions, goals, dreams… Thank you for trying little steps each day and celebrating progress.

Thank you for experience showing the humble treasure in “good enough.” 

Thank you for friends you’d like with you at a party. Thank you for friends you’d want near at a funeral. Thank you for the overlap. 

I wonder if, on the whole, I may be better at fasting than feasting. (Gandhi seemed a true pro at fasting, a historical hero, so it must have pluses.) What about you?

Thank you for the weirdness and wonder of being human.

Thank you for the documentary Eating for Tomorrow raising my appreciation for healthy fishies (not as food).

Thank you for a goofy scribble on a pizza box in the kitchen: “Nobody puts their shoes on the wrong feet on purpose.”

Thank you for an overheard phone conversation between an elderly, wheelchair-bound mother (at Kaiser) and her son. He kept repeating, “I love you, Mom, very much.”

Thank you for the answer to this question being the same no matter who asks it: Am I special, or am I just like everyone else? (My hunch, it’s always “both.”)

Thank you for signs that my health is increasing. I believe in your healing, too. <3