#365Gratitude: A number of wolves

You may have noticed I'm not numbering these anymore.  Why?  It started with my friend Andrea.

She and I often talk about mindfulness, taoism, zen stuff, all that "woo".  I was joking with her months ago that when the new year came around, I might label each one "#365Gratitude Day 1", because really today is the only day there is anyhow.  

It was going to be a grand joke.  I'd just start labeling things that way, and wait for people to notice, or not.

As I got closer to the actual day, I brought it up with Squee, who I do talk to rather a lot.  That's one of the weird, wonderful ironies of the long-distance relationship.  We spend vast amounts of time together, at a distance, every day.  We share a lot of our thoughts, big ones and little ones, and just noodle about them.

I was telling her about my big numbering plan, which as I got closer to it, I was agonizing about a bit.  Should I do it, or not do it?  Was the pithy humor and zen lesson of it worth the change? (All of which is a bit vain anyhow, because this is just my blog.  If this writing of mine is a star, it's just a tiny, little one amongst a galaxy of countless billions.)

That was when, in a caregiving way, Squee pointed out to me that it wasn't a choice between just the joke, or the numbers.  She showed me how the numbering either way was a sort of expectation, and even comparison.  She reads my blog fairly regularly and notices my little jags of not-blogging for days, then rushing all at once to catch it up.  Often, when that has happened in the past, I'll apologize for the delay, as if I'm letting people down.  

But that's not the deal.  It's the very opposite of mindful practice.  She asked me, in that lovely, caregiving way she has, "Why number them at all?"

This is where the wolves come in.

That's a little tiny bit of a favorite Zen Pencils comic of mine, The Two Wolves.  It's awesome, you should go read it.  The essential idea is that there's a struggle going on at all times inside you, between good and evil.  Which side will win?  The one you feed.

Mindfulness is like that.  It's a practice.  You do it.  Sometimes you don't do it, and then you remember to.  I told Squee that this whole discussion reminded me of the comic.  Because numbers, and years are arbitrary.  So, focusing on making a "complete set" of gratitudes for a year is the very opposite of the wolf I am trying to feed.

When?

Each day.

These sorts of discussions are among the reasons I love and am grateful for her.

#365Gratitude: Like a train station bathroom

No, no, let me be clear.  I'm not saying I like a specific train station bathroom.  Heck, if you've ever had the misfortune to use the concourse bathrooms at Union Station in DC, you have my sympathy, because they're horrible.  

What I'm saying is that this past weekend when Katie and Leah were visiting the "master bathroom" off our bedroom was like a train station.  People just kept ducking in and out of it.  At one point there were four of us in there up to various acts that one does in the bathroom.  (Like showering, or brushing one's teeth, or peeing.  In our house we save the making pancakes for the kitchen.  It's really a lot more sanitary that way.)

Anyhow, it makes me laugh, and feels sort of wonderful, sharing that space with people I'm connected with in my poly family.  It's busy, crazy, warm, loving, and intimate all at the same time.

For example, here's Katie and Leah in the shower.

I love that hustle and bustle.  It's a delightful pandemonium.

#365Gratitude: C that kid

Over new year's our girl Katie, her partner Leah (who's really also our girl too - we love her) and their son, C. visited us for the holiday weekend.  I love all three of them.  The last time I saw C. was for his birthday back in October.

Kids grow so fast, and change so quickly.  I was shocked at how good a reader he's become.  He has these "drink in everything" eyes where he scans the room and reads random anything and everything out loud.  It makes my heart skip a beat every time he does it, because of my lifelong love affair with books, and my deep, heartfelt yearning to read Harry Potter with him.  (Which I think I'm going to have to share with Leah, who loves those books even more than I do, which is really saying something.)

Anyhow, as much as C. changes every time I see him, there are some things that stay the same.

For one, he's ridiculously adorable.

For another, he really loves me.  We hold hands when we walk places.  He likes to sit next to me, and lean on me.  

He likes sharks because I do.  He likes Scrabble because I do.

In lots of tiny little ways, he tells me how much he loves me, every single time I see him.

How did I ever get so lucky?

#365Gratitude Day 365: Summation

My friend Ben is a poet, and a damn fine one.  I read a poem of his recently, "Summation", about what it means to be a person, at the end of another year.  Dogs have it easier than we do.  But we get by just fine.

I was so moved by it, that I decided my final gratitude of the year, which is for him, his poetry, and our friendship, would be to record it read aloud, and share it with you.

#365Gratitude Day 364: Heading Squidward

"Squidward" is sort of a direction for me. Missy always says that I head toward things I'm afraid of​, as opposed to away. 

I see that's true, and that when I'm able to bring people along with me, that makes it even better. 

Case in point: since my conversion to being a pescetarian, I've been slowly getting my sister-in-law, who's not real big on fish, to try new fish things. The other day it was lobster bisque. She was hesitant at first, but then warmed right up to that bisque. 

Go on, say bisque again. I did too, it's funny. 

Anyhow, last night was more of the same. Missy, MB, and I went out for a fancy dinner for the very best reason: we just felt like it. 

At the restaurant, I ordered a calamari appetizer (which my sister Pene's one relative famously and hilariously calls an "advertiser".) 

When it came to the table, she was hesitant .  I mean calamari is just Italian for squid , right?I reminded her about the bisque, she laughed and tried it. 

So did Missy.  

They loved it. 

We headed squidward.