Thankful

Driving to church this morning, I saw a squirrel run across the street. It ran right at the car in front of me and I thought for sure it was doomed. I was already picturing the splat of squirrel on pavement. But no -- it hit the car, or the car hit it, or maybe it didn't hit the car at all. What it did do was a perfect backflip, impressive height, stuck the landing, and kept right on going, straight to the other side of the street.

It all happened right there before my eyes. So I began Thanksgiving Day 2022 thankful for bounce and resilience. What other things are there to be thankful for today? What special things, what everyday things? What things that are not things but still gifts? 

Here are some thoughts. (You think, too -- it's good practice.)

Things I'm thankful for this evening.

Yesterday's wifi repair. Yes, it sounds shallow, but I truly missed Alexa. She's back. She tells me the weather. She plays NPR, and sleep music, too.

Brunch, today's alternative to a big family dinner. More and better conversation when there's just four people and you're not trying to serve a dozen dishes hot.

Wool for knitting, wool for weaving, and all the things you can make it do with looms and needles. 

Heat. Light. Water. Available just by flicking a switch or turning a faucet. I can't imagine what life is like for the people of Ukraine. 

Singing, with people my own age and with younger ones who keep me sharp. Not literally sharp, but sharp enough not to be flat. 

The good and interesting books I've read this year. Someday I'll keep a list so that I can trot out a list of recommendations. Good as they were, the titles mostly elude me in the moment. Maybe they weren't so good after all.

The less-good and the mundane books in my life this year. Ordinary is not a terrible place to spend time.

Lavender hand lotion. Good for rubbing on your feet before going to sleep.

Salmon fillets, which are, praise be, among my daughter's favorite foods. 

Kurt, my thirty-year-old son. How is it that my youngest child is that old and yet is wise beyond those years? (He is still a lovable goof, too.)

Eliza, my soon-to-be thirty-two-year-old daughter. Also wise beyond my expectations.

I'm thankful for living and breathing today. For bouncing along on the surface of life, for being pulled under into dim and confusing places, for all the details that I turn over endlessly in my brain and for the mind that does that work, consciously and unconsciously.

I'm thankful for poetry that turns words and phrases sideways to catch and hold unique moments in time. I'm thankful for the times I've been able to do that myself and thankful for times when I try to sit with the present moment and not much of anything shows up. 

I'm thankful for people who read this blog. 

I'm thankful for grief and all the people who illuminate it, especially in Anderson Cooper's podcast "All There Is."

I'm thankful for the exercise that got my knee back into shape after I fractured my patella. Thankful for the calm and alignment of yoga. Thankful for the nap I'm drifting towards.

It's dark. It's chilly in the house. It's time this weekend to get out the Advent candles and gird ourselves for the cold winter. Nothing else to do but head on through it, thankful for all that life brings and all the ways we avoid going splat. We bounce. We turn back flips.