Thank you universe, for having my back, for providing all of the little things that are so easy to take for granted and for the big things, too.
For hairbrushes, that I don't look any more wretched than I already do first thing in the morning. For providing me a spare room for the occasional retreat and oft needed solitude. Let's be honest, same goes for the bathroom.
Thank you for all of those who chose to dedicate themselves to professions in which they must first listen to our my stories of aches and pains, and sore muscles and heavy hearts and then fix them. I don't know what I'd do without these people.
Thank you for clean water and the feel of a sisal rug under my feet; for music carried on technology so small that surely it would blow the mind of a Mayflower pilgrim.
Thank you for the sound of falling leaves, for the sound of a beagle snoring; for dogs and cats and chickens and things but yes, definitely the dogs — kudos there, Your Bigness.
Thank you for my mother. I'll leave it at that.
For the fact that the eggplant from the summer rebounded and sprung another half dozen edibles and in November, no less!
Thank you for the occasional congestion so that I know what it is to breathe deep and clear.
Thank you for giving me the ability, the desire to spring off the surface of this sweet earth over and over again for five miles now. It took a lot of practice but it was so worth it.
Thank you for all of the big hearts in my life — for good and dear friends and a husband that I still swoon for. Teach me, please, to be gentle and kind because I wasn't always and I carry the dark stone of shame in my gut everyday as penance.
Thank you mostly for the beauty,
for the beauty,
for the beauty of it all.