Tag Archives: Gratitude

Gratitude

1. Morning walks. I finally got to go on one this week. It’s been super cold, which makes it better for Ringo to go on a run with Eric than a slower paced walk with me, and I still don’t have much energy as I’m recovering from COVID, but the one I got to do was gorgeous. I love winter here.

2. Being on the other side of a medical procedure that was necessary but no fun. The colonoscopy prep wasn’t anything you’d choose to do but it was so much kinder to me this time around. I could actually sleep and didn’t spend the whole night violently ill. I also had a friend doing the same at the same time, so we were texting throughout the process and that somehow made things easier, like I had a “colonoscopy buddy.” My results were positive, the situation that caused the abscess was what we expected (and not cancer or Crohn’s disease, which can cause the same symptoms), and everything else was normal, fine, as it should be, all good. I’ll talk to my doctor after she reads the full report to see if I need surgery, but I’m so happy to be on this side of things. I told the anesthesiologist when I woke up, “I was dreaming about my dog.” I’m going to write and post more later about the process because I learned some things that seem worth sharing.

3. Going back to the gym. Having COVID and then being exhausted from having COVID and a colonoscopy prep to do, I hadn’t been to the gym in three weeks. I went today, did the hydromassage chair, stretched out in the pool, and sat in the sauna. It felt good, and wore me out. Tomorrow I’ll try some yoga and Monday maybe aqua aerobics and small group training. I’m doing everything at half speed until my energy comes back.

4. Making art with Janice and Mikalina. Creative practice, play, and community are so important to the more solitary, “serious” practices I do, and to my mental health in general.

5. First responders. Early on Monday morning the carbon monoxide detector in our garage went off. We were pretty sure it was a malfunction, that the detector was failing because it was so old, and the one inside the house was functioning but not alerting AND the faulty one would alert even outside in the open air, but just to be sure, we called and had the fire department come out to check. They were happy to do so, gave us the all clear and made us feel much better about it all. Ringo however DID NOT approve of those guys in those weird suits, hats, and masks in that big truck talking to his favorite human AND going inside his house while he had to stay in the car.

6. My tiny family, tiny home, tiny life. Eric and Ringo took such good care of me this week.

Bonus joy: good neighbors who came out in the early morning cold to check on us when they saw the fire truck in front of the house and us sitting in our car, all the nurses and doctors and other various staff who are there when you need them and give so much support and assurance (the woman who checked me in yesterday said “nice to meet you” after getting me all settled — how sweet is that?!), being able to cook for myself especially when I’m craving something specific and can easily look online for a recipe and follow it and have it turn out and be so satisfying — extra so because “I made it myself!”, gingerbread, birds in the feeder, so many possible comfortable places to sleep in our house when we need somewhere other than our bed (must be what Ringo feels like, as he’s got at least six places to sleep that are JUST for dogs and is also allowed on any of the other furniture we use), that the time Ringo threw up his breakfast almost three weeks ago was just a fluke and not the sign of anything else, good movies and TV, listening to podcasts and music, sunshine in the winter, texting with my mom and Chris and Chloe’ and Mikalina and Chelsey and Jeff, talking to Eric’s mom on the phone, having a friend who is a local surgeon, all of Eric’s D&D friends, mashed potatoes, when I start a new notebook and get to pick a sticker to put on the front, Vitamin Water (Squeezed flavor), wipe and ointment, down blankets and pillows, clean sheets, playing with Ringo, “singing” with Ringo, warm socks, soft shirts, indoor plumbing, pizza, cake, walnuts and almonds, oranges, green tea, meditating with Joel, wild-ish writing with my Friday morning sangha, paint, pens, pencils, a warm shower, watching Antiques Roadshow and Tiny House Hunters with Eric at night, sitting with him on the couch, hugs, making each other laugh, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.

Gratitude

1. The opportunity to rest, to heal. This applies to so many things, but in particular and most recently having COVID, probably for the second time. I feel like I didn’t get as sick as the last time but it is taking so much longer to recover my energy — and that’s totally okay. I have time. I don’t need to rush.

2. The ability to change my mind, see things more clearly. For example, this pile is in our front yard, consisting mostly of last season’s sunflowers. Here in Colorado, we don’t have to plant them, they just come, and the meadowlarks and bees love them and I love watching them feed on the flowers. All fall and winter, I’ve seen this pile and thought, “that looks so messy, we really should at least move it to the back by the compost pile.” And yet, the other day I looked out the window and there were at least ten finches and chickadees hopping around the pile, still finding things to eat in the middle of winter. Another example is this morning when I was meditating, had the door to my practice room open and could hear Eric unloading the dishwasher. At first, I could see how it might be a distraction, the banging of plates and slamming of cabinet doors, but then I thought about how the noise Eric was making was a music of sorts, a sound I would desperately miss in the silence of him not being here. He probably wouldn’t say the same about my snoring at night, which is currently worse because I’m still a bit stuffy from the COVID.

3. Bed. Naps, clean sheets, blackout curtains, down blankets and pillows, a weighted blanket, my moon nightlight, my Kindle, our sunrise alarm clock and white noise machine. It’s not just one of my favorite places in our house, it’s one of my favorite places in the world.

4. Practicing in community. Zoom art dates, wild-ish writing, yoga, and meditation.

5. My tiny family, tiny home, tiny life. Sitting on the couch with Eric doing nothing, thanking him for being my person, watching movies together, making each other laugh, cooking together, sleeping in the same bed, having 30 years of memories together, hugs in the kitchen, our couch comfortable enough to sleep on at night if someone needs to, all our plants, the promise of our outside garden, good neighbors, kitchen counter love notes (which he sometimes hides by the tea or on my meditation shrine), how close the river is, birds in the feeder, all the things we need to make spaghetti sauce, our spices, my bookshelves full of books, the wood floors, the rugs, the oval mirrors in our bathroom, the way Ringo is so much more cuddly in the winter, the way Eric makes him a pile of blankets and pillows to nap on, even how Ringo digs up the couch at night or barks at the TV, the way he comes to find me when he and Eric come back from a walk, an echo of how Sam used to do the same thing.

Bonus joy: a warm shower, clean pjs, a big glass of cold water, matcha lemonade, listening to podcasts, clean laundry, pay day, dark chocolate covered almonds, walnuts, Simple Truth Strawberry Paletas Fruit Bars, health insurance that covers prescriptions, NSAIDS, anti-anxiety meds, THC gummies, Burt’s Bees lip balm, the internet, having a backup option when one of my computers doesn’t want to behave, a washer and dryer, windows, sunshine, how bright and quiet it is when there’s snow on the ground, snow plows, the sunrise, reading in bed at night while Ringo and Eric sleep.