Somewhere along the line, I stopped waiting for Thanksgiving
to count my blessings. I mean, I don’t exactly enumerate them and make
exhaustive lists that I ceremoniously share with others. But almost every day
at some point, I find myself in this little ritual of sending out a karmic
thank you for some of the things I’m grateful for. On really good days, it’s
mostly for the big things – family, health, a roof over my head, plenty of
food, etc. During periods of high stress amidst chains of little crises, I can
often calm myself with little things – an extra half hour of sleep, a really
strong cup of coffee, a cat on my lap, warm boots, etc. But rarely a day goes
by that I don’t have some moment, no matter how fleeting, of profound perspective
and thankfulness, throwing my gratitude out to the universe and hoping it
creates a little positive energy.
I’m not exactly sure when this ritual became so ingrained,
but I think it started on a more conscious level as I began talking more regularly
on the phone to my father.
