365 Grateful: 10.23.2014

365 - 10-23-2014

A few years ago, we traveled from Cody, Wyoming, into Yellowstone National Park. The weather had been rainy, but as we progressed through the mountains we stopped in awe of the sky. Yes, still angry and dark but there, above the incredibly green grass and the rugged, rocky outcrop, was a rainbow. Grateful, today, for the clearing skies after an interminable period of rain, cloud cover, rain, more clouds, and rain. Autumn is such a beautiful time, especially with the sunshine making the most of the colors.

365 Grateful: 10.21.2014

365 - 10-21-2014

Consider the lowly drain pipe. It’s not very glamorous. In fact, it’s downright utilitarian, like shop lights in a garage. Function, not form. (You’re not interested in style, you’re interested in light. Or in this case, water. Or shedding it. But it serves a worthy purpose, this ferrying of water away from crucial things like houses and basements and risky foundations. It’s one of those taken-for-granted helpers.

So I’m thinking about that. What serves to wick away stuff for me? What serves as a conduit, ferrying something from me to another destination? And my eyes come to mind because they leak tears whenever there’s a surfeit of emotions — both good and bad. They lighten the emotional toll so I can more quickly regain my equilibrium. I’m grateful, then, for things like drainpipes, whatever form they may take!

365 Grateful: 10.17.2014

365 - 10-17-2014What do you see? A “V,” a bold statement slapped across a blue canvas? Or the clasped hands of two companions striding confidently and securely across the the earth?  I imagine a beautiful triad — two beings in relationship out of which a third entity emerges — the relationship itself. And I am grateful, then, that we humans are separate yet, with deliberate choice, can consciously create, honor and nurture relationship. And when we do, we surely stride like giants, hand in hand across the sky, heads tipping the clouds.

365 Grateful: 10.16.2014

365 - 10-16-2014Left work: late. First stop: closed 5 minutes ago. Second stop: 10 minutes away but expected 10 minutes ago. Third stop: forced by a lumbering train in no particular hurry. Reminder: slow down, breathe, relax. Grateful: for the squeaking of wheels and clanging of couplings that lulled me into a more mindful place.