1. Ringo Blue. That he’s here with us, healthy and happy and safe.
2. The morning walk. Fall is the best season for walks. This week we saw lots of deer and a heron fishing for breakfast. One morning I was lamenting that we’d left too late to see the sun rise over the river, only to reach it and see a rainbow instead.
3. Fall. The color, the cool, the slowing down.
4. Good neighbors. We’ve been in our house for 20 years and have seen lots of people come and go, but it’s sad when the good ones leave and you don’t know the new ones yet.
5. My tiny family, tiny home, tiny life. I was thinking this morning about this post from Jeff Foster, in particular these lines: “Impermanence has already rendered everything and everyone around you so deeply holy and significant and worthy of your heartbreaking gratitude. Loss has already transfigured your life into an altar.”
Bonus joy: steroid shots for my wrists and the resulting easing of my pain, stretching, that corner of the couch, sunshine, blue sky, clean water and air, staying home in my pajamas all day, a blank notebook and a good pen, stickers, good TV and movies, listening to podcasts, comedy, kindness, Wild Writing with Laurie and my writing sangha (and the surprise of seeing Lee in class on Friday), texting Chloe’ a picture of a banana or a potato or a cookie and her knowing exactly what I mean, cancelled plans and the dear friends who get it, other people’s dogs, green tea from Japan, weighted blankets and brown noise, down pillows and blankets, hoodies, kittens, cows, being able to reach the river walking less than 15 minutes from our front door, flowers, bees, hummingbird hawk moths, trees, the hydromassage chair, leftovers, naps, reading in bed while Eric and Ringo sleep.
Your bonus joys always make me smile and I can relate to so many of them.