gratitude for this life

quick thoughts + a poem ♡

Gratitude for this life. I've touched on a handful of elements / themes this month, but it all boils down to a vast love for the life I've been gifted, the one I've created, the one I've journeyed, the one that's still forming like a vibrant mystery and exhilarating ride. It's been an immensely hard year, sure, but the beauty is bigger. The gratitude is louder. I am achingly thankful for my husband, my kids, my other loved ones, my adventures, my passions, the way each of my days has the capacity to open to me like a hug, like an old friend, like an unexplored field where light is settling like a blanket.

my cheek touching his skin
creates a whole new galaxy
that we slip into, laughing
while everything rearranges
while sensation is melody
while the spiral turns golden

gratitude for shadows

 

Gratitude for the shadows: the people and days that strengthened my self-knowledge, my resolve, my courage, that helped me to grow, that allowed me to touch my limits and say 'no more'; a poem. ♡

ten of swords slips from my pocket
like a packet of moonflower seeds
and I don't even want to look back
but, still, I pause and bow to the ground
I just walked, the soil that's in the lines
of my feet and dusting my skin,
and I let that piece of earth hold me
for a moment as I whisper thank you,
and I'm not sure who I'm thanking,
but maybe them, or maybe the land,
or maybe myself, and when I once
again stand, my backbone is made
of wilder stuff. 

gratitude for everyday gifts

 

quick thoughts + a poem ♡ Gratitude for everyday gifts: sparks of meaning and connection, flashes of beauty, the steadying pace of the mundane, the thrill of the unusual, gentle affection and shared jokes, all the moments that cascade and collect into each day. There is so much. So many gifts. This poem, though, explores quick interactions and chance meetings as one of those such gifts. ♡ I pull the ribbon and unwrap the surprise: they were strangers, and strange, and (momentarily) known, and loved. waiting for paint to shimmy into the right shade of green, he tells me to stay strong. watching the moon drip down, she speaks on lifelong awe. water melting to shore, he talks of art as the curse and the savior. it is about dreams and astrophysics and making the abstract real. it is about light settling into the landscape and energy as a force. it is my pink matching their mom's wedding dress and house, memories shading their eyes as I snap their lighthouse photo. it is a smile, a wave, a nod, a laugh, a reminder that they aren't alone, and, by magic, by miracle, by delighted wonder and soothe, neither am I.

gratitude for freedom

gratitude: freedom of thoughts, ideas, dreams, movement, and being, a poem ♡

I wrap the atmosphere
around me as I accelerate
and touch the horizon

as I speak words that grow
wings and nest their way
into minds and hearts

as I breathe wishes
glowing echoes of dreams
to an awaiting star

as I become a lullaby
to soothe and coax dark
nights into a morning

full of meadowlark song.

gratitude for celebrations

gratitude: celebrations (of birth, of holidays, of dreams realized, of crossing thresholds, of deciding to keep going, of aliveness in all its shades and frequencies), a simple poem ♡

we splash through puddles and put on funny hats
we laugh, we ascend, we descend, we collapse
into the bed after a day where the lights vibrated
faster and brighter than we'd ever experienced;
sealed with a kiss, wrapped softly and lavishly
in a future cherished memory, we dream sweetly.

gratitude for nature

gratitude: nature, a poem + list ♡

I trace the shoreline with my steps
a few in one direction to solid ground
a few in the other to being swallowed by depths

with each rush of waves, I find my own edges
with each moment longer, I find my form
with each pulse of ever softening light, my skin

becomes scales and feathers, my hair breeze
and blooms, my eyes moonglow and longing
my voice something that pierces the dark   

♡

some of what I'm thankful for: the feel of the earth beneath my feet the day after rain. sunbeams bursting from moody clouds. skies saturated in color and texture. the moon in all its phases. waves crashing against my body. the wild mood and energy, the chaos and soothe, of the ocean. waterfalls flowing over me. the sound of rushing water. when light slides like butter down softly rolling hills. wind through tall grass. orb weavers. the way spiderwebs catch light. the sound of birds taking flight. feathers on the ground. nests securely or delicately nestled in trees and against homes. owls and hawks in the air. birdsong. the speed at which a snake disappears from sight. the way armadillos nuzzle into the earth as they find food. the mysterious thrill of spotting a wild creature. woods vibrating with lightning bug glow. the crunch of leaves. snow-angels and the silhouetted bones of the trees. rainbows. storms with lightning and purple air. when the air feels so comfortably right in temperature and flow that it's complete peace and ease. scenes collected in rain puddles and the glee at splashing through them. sunshine warmth on skin. first blooms and the shade of spring green. fields of wild color. barely there paths to welcome me into unknowns. how I, too, am nature.

gratitude for my people

gratitude: my people, those dear to my heart, a simple poem ♡

we sit in the moonlight
a fire dance on our skin
laughing howling tossing
wishes to flame, for more
of this, for less of that
for the life birthed to bloom
how it was always meant to

for the life humming
through our veins to gift us
more kisses in the rain
and held hands and melting
embraces and shared glee
and strong shoulders,
but we don't know, and so

we laugh more, talk more
watch star shimmer tangle
into the kids' hair as the dogs
bark in excitement, as night
grows more noisy before
it once again softens and we
say bye, I love you, drive

safely.

gratitude for the ancestors

 

a simple poem by me ♡

with soil beneath their nails
with their babies in bed
with long roads ahead
and a wild chill in the air

they wrapped themselves
in light and now they wrap
me, too, in a blanket made
of a thousand whispered

lanterns.

gratitude

Being in awe and thankful for the experience of aliveness is not tied to any particular day or season. It is, or can be, in every breath. Often, though, we're nudged to remember practices of gratitude in November.

It has been a complex stretch of years, so I want to lean into this energy, to explore with curiosity as the month unfolds. I don't just mean skipping rocks over the surface, or being thankful for only ease (which, certainly, deserves a bow of appreciation too), but for the richness, the texture, the endless layers of life.

I'm thinking of how ee cummings summons the thrill of being here in this world when he writes, "i thank You God for most this amazing / day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees / and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything / which is natural which is infinite which is yes."

I'm thinking of how Mary Oliver often speaks similarly of truly paying attention and being present, but also how she gives a nod of retrospective gratitude to the more tangled lessons when she writes, "Someone I loved once gave me / a box full of darkness. / It took me years to understand / that this, too, was a gift."

I'm thinking of how David Whyte weaves it all together when he writes, "Gratitude is the understanding that many millions of things must come together and live together and mesh together and breathe together in order for us to take even one more breath of air, that the underlying gift of life and incarnation as a living, participating human being is a privilege; that we are miraculously, part of something, rather than nothing. Even if that something is temporarily pain or despair, we inhabit a living world, with real faces, real voices, laughter, the color blue, the green of the fields, the freshness of a cold wind, or the tawny hue of a winter landscape."

As I step through the threshold to November, I opens my hands, cupped, offering a blessing, receiving a blessing, all woven with threads of gratitude, an energetic tapestry of wild, wild aliveness.