Technology is a wonderful, terrible thing. But mostly it’s wonderful. Yesterday I wrote about missing my brother. Tonight I was able to Skype with him, talking face to face, me plopped on my bed with my laptop on my lap and him plopped on his bed talking to me from his tablet. It’s not quite as nice as being in the same room but it’s almost that good. Being able to see his facial expressions to go along with hearing his voice made it so much more special than simply talking on the phone would have been. I am grateful to have the means to be able to have and use technology to stay in touch with friends and family around the country and periodically from around the world.
I am going to offer simple gratitude this evening. It has been a long day full of trainings and meetings, and I scarcely felt like I had a moment to myself. You’re going to have these days when you work in a large organization, no matter what kind it is. I am not complaining about it as much as stating a fact. Earlier this week I had excellent stretches of time without meetings or appointments when I could think and outline ideas and plans. I had some good meetings with our team and a number of individual meetings and encounters with people I work closely with that were generative and productive. So if I have the occasional days that are filled with activities that feel less satisfying, that’s alright. I am grateful to be working, to be using my mind, my skills and experiences, as well as my heart and spirit in service to an important mission with a group of people similarly motivated to do good work on behalf of the people we serve. It doesn’t really get too much better than that. While it is by no means perfect, it is good.
I am also grateful for the many lessons I learn from my roommate, Honor. I realized this morning that Honor sees every person she encounters as a potential friend and playmate and every moment is a potential play date. As I walk her around the yard each morning and evening, whenever we spot another human, she gets excited, her whole body trembling with excitement. I am sad that I often drag her away, chastising her, reminding her that we are outside so she can do her business, not run around chasing after every human that walks down the street in front of our house. Everything around her becomes part of the excitement: what’s that thing blowing across the yard? who is that person? What’s that smell? Hey, you wanna play ball?
Would that I could approach every being I encountered with her sense of excitement that each person could be my new best friend and wouldn’t it be great to play with them. And oh to approach my days with a sense of excitement and anticipation about how much fun it is going to be. Such a sense of unadulterated joy and expectancy, such good natured, open hearted accessibility to the beings around me. How life would be different if more of us went to the Honor school of diplomacy and human relations. It’s a great reminder to me that I need to learn how to play. Life can get way too serious. Yes, I have obligations and responsibilities, but how can I approach them with more joy, with a greater sense of wonder and awe, with a heightened sense of appreciation?
Sometimes I sigh at all that I still have left to learn. But I am grateful, because I do still try approach the world with an eye toward what is possible–with an open heart, mind, and spirit. I still fall down, get cranky, swear at traffic, get sad and depressed, but I come back to the place of gratitude and hope. I have been down and despairing and have had my own particular dark nights of the soul; but I have always come out on the other side, wobbly legged but still standing, lifting my hands and voice in songs of praise and gratitude. I think I am finally coming to understand what joy is and it is not what I thought. I am grateful beyond measure for the multiple blessings that manifest in my life on a constant regular basis. They are not massive, big, amazing, remarkable occurrences, events, opportunities, but small, quiet, everyday miracles that only I can see and experience within my own heart and spirit. You can see their effects if you look closely at me, otherwise they could go unnoticed. But in my heart they are bursting out all over the place enough to make me want to wag my whole body with excitement the way I see my Honnie do every day. I’m not there yet, but I’m getting closer. And that’s a very good thing.
