A Grateful Yogi

This year, a number of people in my family are embracing the holiday spirit in the name of gratitude and leaving consumerism out in the cold. Our decision to not make any holiday gift purchases this year has left me with an overwhelming feeling of freedom, and I'm instead concentrating on what I've already got—which is quite a lot!! Below is a list of things I'm grateful for.... And I'd love to hear some of your gratitudes as well. It's a beautiful thing, to practice sharing and giving in the form of gratitude. Far more valuable than "stuff," if you ask me.

1.       Laughter.  Al and I—we laugh. Hard. And a lot. If you don’t have a person that makes you laugh really, really hard, go get one.  Or call your funniest friends or look up something hilarious on YouTube. Laughter is the best medicine.

2.       Heat. For several days at the start of fall (which felt more like winter), the heat at our house wasn’t working. I realize that the beginning of the cold-weather season sounds like a good idea to some, but I assure you that present day technologies (like heat) have a lot to do with your ability to enjoy twenty degree nights.

3.       Music. Of all kinds. No matter my mood, there’s a song for it. And sometimes, when I “shuffle” my Ipod, it magically knows exactly what my mood is and what I need to hear. See? Miracles do happen.

4.       Intentions. (Not goals, but intentions.) Over the summer I set a month long intention to be more creative and to trust my ability to work with my hands. And thus began a new era of my life: painting and a creative confidence I’d never quite embraced. Without attachments to results, I started creating for creation’s sake. One hippiefied car, Intro to Oil class, and newly designated home painting corner later, I’m still going. And I’m loving it.  

5.       Yoga. It puts me in my body regardless of my mood: I can feel strong, exhausted, flexible, graceful, sad, weak, unbalanced or steady. Yoga says, “hey you! Breathe!” and I often need that reminder. It’s a place to just be. My old sticky-turned-stinky mat provides me with a safe space to practice doing life—because most of the time I have to be out there living it.  

6.       Family and Time. I’m combining these gratitudes because they both contain infinite healing powers. Humans are never going to be perfect, but if we pay attention, love and time offer us lessons to heal all wounds. My family and time have taught me to love indiscriminately and unconditionally, and they have taught me to forgive.

7.       Hope. People often encourage others not to “get your hopes up,” but I disagree. Hope is worth having. And while the intention of protecting people from disappointment is a loving sentiment, a life without hope is…well…. Hopeless. What if we embraced hope more openly? What if we embraced disappointment? Maybe we could live more fully—and use our hope to propel us forward. And we’d know what to do with disappointment. Just a thought.

8.       Friends. Without them, I would be a lost pile of goo. I'd also miss out on a homemade baked bread, hot and fresh out of the oven (photo credit above goes to Wendy's bread). Mmm.

9.       Perspective. When leading students through a difficult yoga pose, I’ll often say something like, “just three more breaths, in the grand scheme of life, this isn’t very long.” My current practice has me taking this lesson to heart, and I’m constantly relearning that “right now” is not “forever.” Even on the darkest of days, I can indeed “hang in there! Keep breathing!” And I am. Instead of pushing against present challenges by struggling or fighting, I’m opting to go with the flow. This too shall pass—if I flow with it.  

10.   Idgie and Bella. Even though they often wake up me up in the middle of the night howling for kibble or needing to go outside, they have a way of making everything OK. They get stuff that humans don’t—including of course, rolling around in poo—but that’s not what I’m really getting at here. They just give love. Warm, sweet, happy love. Pure, wonderful love.

11.   Falling apart. There’s just no other way to learn how to pick yourself up.

12.   Listening. It’s an undervalued and understated—yet necessary—element of the communication process. I’m astounded by the amount of people who seem to think that physical presence is equivalent to emotional and intellectual presence during conversation. As if being in the same room means that texting, checking your tweets, or answering calls in the middle of our conversation is “listening.” (It’s not.) I offer my thanks to those who truly listen and offer their attention when others talk, and I vow to continue giving you the same respect. I also reserve this practice for me: in giving myself time to listen to me, without interruption, whether through yoga, painting, meditation or other practices, it’s my way of saying to myself, “I respect you and honor you. I am here with you. You are important.”

13.   Growing up. It doesn’t necessarily get easier, but it gets easier.

14.   Patience. I’m a little low on patience right now, which is why I’m listing it as a gratitude. Because rather than viewing my patience as lacking, I trying to be grateful for the patience I do have. This also expands my opportunity to gain more. Because surely there is more of it out there, right? Right? Yes? Anyone?

15.   Courage. For remembering I have it, even when I feel devoid. For remembering that courage is there to take the reins when I’m scared or hesitant.

16.   Our house. It’s a very, very, very fine house. (Thanks CSNY.) As a cancer crab, I’ve always longed for a shell to curl up in each day to feel safe, nurtured and held, and my home is exactly that. Under our roof—and in our yard, and on our porch swings, I have everything I need in the world. Sure the place needs some work, but it’s perfectly imperfect and adorably “us.” Like Goldilocks, everything there is “just right.” Home sweet home.

17.   Love. For living from love, for living with Spirit, for being vulnerable, and for love that is shared. For romantic, sexy, steamy love. For self-love. For love of the deceased.  For love of trees and animals and everything that ever was. Giant, huge, infinite, universal love.

18.   For you. Because you are special and important.  You are appreciated. You are cared for and loved and heard. You matter. Without you the world would not be what it is today. Thank you for being here, and for being exactly who you are.