Gratitude is one of the very best ways to peer beneath autopilot, straight into The Light of your deepest self. Here's mine for being alive in general, feel free to add.
when the wave comes back in and something that was hard is suddenly ease and you sigh into the sweetness of your own humanity
that moment when a Very, Nearly Unbearable loud noise stops and you get to feel silence in a brand new whelp of experience
making lists, flirting with order. It’s like writing love notes to the god of chaos and telling him you’re going to tie him up proper one of these days
falling head over butt, over heels and over butt again, into love, into an appreciation for another that you have no defense against
nachos and cold beer after a long hot motorcycle ride through the hiss of cicadas and the groan of kudzu taking the world by greenest storm
the whole hog fun of really saying a thing
being understood, when the lights go on and they really GET it
discovering (again and again) that the art of allowing is truly an art. Creating an existence is the ultimate art studio.
living life as a poem, and scanning for where the poem of life wants to go instead of what might be a wise next move
falling off waterfalls
The way his hand shot out as I went careening off the top of the falls and he grabbed the line of me as if he meant to hall a thousand ships to shore, not politely, not half-heartedly, but the way we catch when we don’t have time to consider if it’s a wise next move
lightly maintaining a disdain for wise moves, in general
when you reclaim a childhood pleasure you left behind cuz it made someone else nervous and it makes your adult heart scream into its pillow for joy
helping someone for the fun of helping someone. hey human.
when someone starts singing along to a song at the exact same moment that you do and you both grin and fall in love with being in harmony together so cloudwondrously
making up words to do my dirty business
the way all my favorite characters always have to create or discover the thing they need in order to master blast the quest into its truest form. They never have it or even know about it or how to get to it.
moving like a hero. Remembering that dragons are fun and have something unique and particular for me.
refusing to let reductive thinkers explain Everything as if you could ever pick all the cherries off the tree that got hit by lightening, twice, had almost no leaves, and produced all summer long, ceaselessly. And the cherries came off easiest during storm.
remembering that cherries go on forever. And so does magic and its exact shape just grew, our understanding is behind it. It keeps leaping into the sweet alcove of infinity, and, as Rumi says, all we can do is build a new kind of gazing house
when the lover starts spontaneously quoting Rumi at key moments of shared delight and you quadruple in size, as a human dancer, as a new kind of dancer
quests. Always start off as seeming failure and end up being the exact bridge to the new you you’d always secretly hoped you’d have the bravery to become.
the way you keep meaning to give away that scarf but then end up using it for every picnic on the top of every mountain and find yourself wrapping the new babies in it because actually, what you meant to do was to weave the love inside the gift into the love inside your living and let love make love babies, forever.
people who beatbox
going out on dates and wearing fancy shoes without feeling goofy
building, side by side, on your own home, the way the laughing goes in, and the sweat, and the light, and trying, the beautiful trying and sometimes even pulling it off, it all gets woven in so the house gets homed, in the trying, in the sweetness of our perpetual showing up
being a part of a beautiful team, all the sweet lifts in that symphony
that moment when you realize you’re right smack dab in the middle of a dream coming true, and you get this deeper acknowledgement at the center of you of how you once ached for this impossible feeling thing and now you’re up to speed with it, and you feel proud for that rising of yours and also, freshly excited for the things you’re not clearly sure you’re rising to and o!
the fun of rising!
how rising is so essential to our humanness. And how there is no rising to be done if there is not struggle to rise from. And so, yay struggle. It makes champagne of our human dancing and offers it to the gods of now.