As I climbed into a hot bath last night, body tired and sore from a good days work, I could feel my muscles letting out a heavy sign of relief at this chance to relax and unwind at the end of the day. The sky was a cool grey; nine o’clock and still the light of day lingers. No candles, no lights, just the big window before me sharing the last today had to offer.
The sound of the rain played hard against the metal roof above me. How thankful I am for all this rain. 150 trees I planted this year. Such tiny things with such a hard chance to make it up here. But this rain gives me hope. Gives them hope. I could not ask for better conditions to have taken this chance at starting new life in a land so fragile and harsh.
The sounds of the fire, the sporadic pop from the wood stove crackled downstairs below me. This is the sound of warmth, of comfort, of home. I have been cold, had cold homes, no home. I don’t ever want to take this comfort for granted.
The sound of my boys, their laughter launching in frequent gusts, as they sat together on the sofa discussing snowmobile adventures shared together last winter, planned together for the winter ahead. I can think of no blessing greater than the sound of their laughter.
I think of Thanksgiving. No, not the food. I am full from our simple dinner of beans that had cooked on the stove all day, green chili and cornbread. I don’t need much more. I think of being thankful.
A few years on Thanksgiving Day we took the time to write down our list of all we had to be thankful for. As each of us began to write, the lists would grow and grow and grow. We could see how much we had. How much we had to be thankful for. Beginning our lists, we knew we were just starting to see. There is so much. We have so much.
We don’t write the lists every year. Perhaps we should; perhaps it would be a good reminder if we find ourselves taking our lives and all the goodness in them for granted. But I don’t think that’s the case. I believe we do take time, most every day, to look around and consider all we have to be thankful for. The rote requirement of writing it all down might serve as a reminder, or rather, may spoil the spontaneous beauty of thoughtful time when grace and gratitude are heartfelt and here and now.
We may reflect in times of need, in times we have overlooked or somehow forgotten all we have to be thankful for. There are times when we do forget. When the negative casts its dark cloud and overshadows the goodness.
All it takes sometimes is a quiet bath at the end of the day, to hear and listen for and really allow yourself to feel the subtle sounds that may trigger the thoughts that remind us how much we all have to be thankful for.