Sometimes I miss good, old fashioned letters. Every day I go to my mailbox, lift the flap and feel around for mail. Most days there’s something in there and 99 percent of the time it’s either junk mail, coupons, cards asking me to donate clothing and furniture, or mail addressed to somebody else. The other day there was a Christmas card in there, but it wasn’t meant for me but for the previous tenant. I have been meaning to write a nice long email to a friend of mine back in California, but haven’t quite gotten around to it. My hope is that over the holiday break I’ll do that. I don’t even get personal emails. “If you want someone to write to you, write them first,” my mother advised me when I was much younger. So I will have to take her up on that idea. This, however, has nothing whatever to do with my thoughts on gratitude this evening.
I am writing much later tonight than usual, so I plan to be brief. I am grateful for having spent a lovely evening having dinner with my eldest sister and her husband and my daughter. It was a quiet, enjoyable meal with them, and was the first and only time Michal will be able to visit with them during the holidays this year. I am continually grateful for the reminder of how wonderful it is to spend time with family. This reminder is important because every day when I climb into my car for the commute home I have to remember why I moved 26.5 miles away from where I work. “Oh yes,” I say to myself after I’ve spent time with one of my sisters, “Now I remember why I live way over here and work way over there.”
I am grateful for traveling mercies. Tonight Michal was with me at work, so was able to once again enjoy the evening commute with me. At one point when I was changing lanes she informed me that I’d come close to hitting another car. I am relieved to have missed it but was cranky for much of the rest of the drive home. In spite of my crankiness I am grateful for the all miles I’ve driven and the hours I’ve spent in the car over the few months I’ve lived here and even back in California. Every morning I write in my journal as part of a daily practice the words of lovingkindness meditation, including the line, “May I be safe and protected from harm.” I take this quite seriously and do not take this for granted.
As I close tonight, I share a few of the other well wishes I offer each morning:
May I be filled with lovingkindness and compassion. May I be peaceful and happy. May I be safe and protected from harm. May I be healthy and strong in my body, mind, and spirit. May I live with joy, ease, and wellbeing. May I experience the arising and passing of all things with equanimity and balance. May it be so for me and my loved ones. May it be so for my acquaintances and for people with whom I struggle (my “enemies”). May it be so for all beings.