Gratitude

Ms. Gillette invited me to share a few thoughts about Gratitude. I don’t (can’t, in fact) write all that much upon demand. My thoughts tend to follow their own schedule, their unique process of gestation. Besides, I truly suck at self-discipline. Still, I’m grateful she asked, for it’s too easy for a melancholic such as I to fall prey to dolor and dark musings. Gratitude is the only effective counter-force, the only antidote.

I’m grateful for gratitude.

Where should one begin? Perhaps it’s best to begin in a time before Time, when all there was, was an improbable dream. And the dream exploded and miracles filled the void with billions of galaxies containing trillions of stars that burned with fierce passion, burst and died, releasing vagabond star dust that soared through the dark vacuum on solar winds until their magic coalesced into form and matter, rock and deep water. And from that water burst forth ever more miracles...the miracle of Life itself.

Yeah. I’m grateful for that.

I’m grateful that Life morphed and flourished in miraculous ways radiating across time and space until two most complex of lives merged in serendipity. Two hearts wove stardust and destiny to bring forth love incarnate. And...um...that would be me. And I, too, came to experience the incarnations of love in many forms and many ways.

And I am MOST grateful for that.

And I am grateful that I was blessed with tongue and touch, nose, eyes and ears to savor all there is to savor. There is so much. It doesn’t even matter (in the end) whether we tasted the bitter or the sweet. Whether we heard harmony or discord, touched the repulsive or the sublime. In the end, what does it matter, for isn’t ALL THIS more than one could ever grasp in its complexity, magic and magnificence? All that matters is that we, we concretions of stardust and infinity, had the chance (and what an incredibly improbable chance it was) to be witness. I am beyond grateful for that.

I am awed.

And I will be ever grateful for every act of kindness, for every ounce of compassion and affection that has been served to me, both in little nibbles and huge gulps. I am grateful for every expression of human tenderness and mercy. Yes, I’m most grateful for every gift ever given from the heart.

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I only wish I had the maturity, serenity and wisdom to live my life as an expression of gratitude. That would be most appropriate,
given the circumstances, no?

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The Hay Field

Is there a scent, in all the world, finer than the bouquet of freshly mown hay? I think not. Then, again, what do I know? I’ve not traversed the continents or the seven seas. I have not the imagination to imagine all the fragrances of the world.

Still...

I was driving with the windows open during a gentle summer rain today. There, to my left, was a hay field freshly mown. Oh, the redolence! The air hummed of Life itself! It was the scent of riches and sustenance, fertility and salvation. My nostrils filled with the scent of a goddess most loving, Mother Earth, Ceres or Demeter (call her what you will). Her perfume was all that I needed or ever craved.

I passed a hay field during a warm summer rain today...

and I felt...saved.

(if only for another day)

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