Tag Archives: Walk

Gratitude Friday

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This post is a mashup of The Little Bliss List and Joy Jam, and as such is meant to celebrate: the little things that brought me hope and happiness this week, the sweet stuff of life, those small gifts that brought me joy this week. By sharing them, I not only make public my gratitude, but maybe also help you notice your own good stuff and send some positive energy out into the world.

beach teepee

1. The High Park Fire is 85% contained. And yet there is so much still burning, so much devastation, and so many people with such big, open hearts working so hard.

2. Farmer’s Markets. Strawberries, raspberries, lettuce, marionberry jam (there is a rumor that my cousin is making me a batch to take back to Colorado with me), and fresh maple bars. I had eaten so many berries yesterday, my fingertips were stained red.

3. Local Community Yoga Classes. Donation based, just down the road, four classes offered per week. I went to my first this morning, and it was awesome, (it gave me a little boost to be the model for some of the more advanced poses).

4. Long walks on the beach. 2-4 hours of this, every day, and the weather has been perfect.

another one

5. Magic, hidden places. Eric and I seem to find these a lot, and he said of the one we found yesterday “this is what happens when you wander around.”

6. LeRoy’s Blue Whale pancakes. I was worried that after two years, either my memory of them couldn’t be trusted or they would have changed, but they were every bit as delicious as I remembered. Apparently, they’ve had the same cook there for the past 18 years, and he makes magic pancakes.

Bonus Joy: meeting Julia. Even though I am a terrible first date (more on that later), it was so great, after already “meeting” her heart and thoughts, already knowing and loving her insides, the art and words she makes, to get to finally meet her outside. In person, just as I suspected, she glows.

Three Truths and One Wish

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1. Truth: There are places you carry inside, no matter where you go. You feel the temperature and the texture, experience the smell and the sound of these locations, see the colors and shapes of the environment, know the size and mood of the space, real and present in memory and dreams.

For me, some of these places are Amsterdam, my childhood home (not just the house, but the whole town–my church, my school, the field at the end of the road where I lived, the local market, post office, the park, my best friend’s backyard), my grandma’s farm, the cannery I worked in for four summers in a row while I was in high school (trust me, I wish I could rid myself of that one!), my little house in Colorado, the basement of that other house which was the first place Eric and I lived together, and the long stretch of beach from Waldport Bay to Seal Rock.


2. Truth: There are mortal beings that you keep in your heart no matter where you go and even when they are gone. These are the ones who’ve taken up residence in your heart, who you have long, heartfelt, silent conversations with regardless of your physical proximity. You dream about them, long for them, miss them, imagine where they might be, what they might be doing right now when they aren’t with you. And when they become formless, no longer attached to a body, you keep them in your heart, your body, hold them with you, carrying their memory, their love, a precious and wild thing that lives in and through you.

3. Truth: There are practices that will follow you, no matter where you find yourself. These are the things, the habits and the methods that you rely on, that you turn to, that you engage in. These can be helpful and healthy, traditions that sustain you, maintain your sanity and comfort, but they can also be destructive, trapping you in your confusion and suffering. Yesterday I wrote, did yoga, ran with Sam on the beach, meditated, read, and took a long walk with all three of my boys, carrying my camera so I could stop and take pictures of what I noticed, what touched me. These practices are magic, medicine. It wasn’t so long ago that my habitual patterns had a much different flavor, a quality of despair and character of destruction. My teacher, Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche says, “We are always meditating–constantly placing our minds on an object and becoming familiar with it. But are we getting used to things that will take us forward on the path?”

One wish: That we can practice gentle and kind awareness, that we can view everything we encounter and experience as an opportunity to cultivate a way of being that generates compassion and wisdom, and that we can let go of any habitual patterns that cause suffering.