~ A Moment of Sweet Astonishment ~

It happened early one morning while the day was gently waking up. I was enjoying a gorgeous walk along the gravel roads, under the astonishing saman trees and I was thinking about the many things I’m thankful for.  Suddenly, with a long, wonderful list tumbling around in my head, I realized that was all I was doing. Thinking. Thinking about what I am thankful for.

It was a surprising moment to realize how distant I was from actually feeling what I was thankful for. 

So I stopped. I settled into a breath. Then I settled into my body and her longing to be saturated in the feeling of thanks, appreciation and gratitude.

I didn’t need a long list of thankfuls.  Slipping deeply into a full body immersion of thankfulness for just one simple thing made all the difference.  I was thankful that I had the ability to feel.

And then I felt thankful for everything.

And of course, as the story often goes, a few days after that precious walk these beautiful words about gratitude came to me from Fred LaMotte.   Perfect to share with you today. 

Deeply feeling thankful for you,
Sharon

Gratitude is not a spiritual practice. It is not something you need to “do.” Gratitude is a subtle thread of starlight that binds your pulse, through sensations of sweetness, to the heart of the galaxy. Just follow one faint breath of thanks until you dissolve.
 
Into what? There is no answer. You must find out for yourself, with the quietest kind of courage. Be grateful for the least most insignificant blessing: last petal on the autumn rose, a lock of golden fur from the dog who died, a tear without a cause, the sound of hummingbirds on a Winter afternoon.
 
You’ll spiral down a dark stairwell to the wine cellar in your rib cage, where Jesus has patiently aged his blood in a cask of delicate unbroken bones. Don’t look for his face. Such grapes as these were crushed long ago. Meet him in the pure bouquet of silence. Savor the hollow of not knowing. His poverty will make you rich.
 
The secret? One atom of the smallest is vaster than the vast. A photon the width of an angel’s wing, inscribed with distant nebulae. The flavor of Mary in bee nectar. A particle of her grace on your tongue. A morsel of bread dipped in the Pleiades. You have everything, my friend, absolutely everything right here. Just follow one faint breath of thanks until you dissolve.