Gratitude Is

Gratitude does not recline in an oversized armchair, stuffed and surrounded in luxury, declaring, "I'm so thankful for what I have."

Gratitude leaves our mouths and arms open wide in wonder that WE EXIST when there could have been absolute no-thing-ness.

Gratitude makes us bare and vulnerable to the truth that nothing at all can be earned...everything we have is gifted by the ancestral universe.

Gratitude illuminates our rich happiness as intrinsically connected to all others' well-being.

Gratitude deepens the hunger to empty our pockets and lighten our packs to be more available to the Source, to nourish our Earth siblings, to share the infinite abundance of Life.

Gratitude requires us to investigate why everyone does not have enough.

Gratitude demands we defend the land, water, air, and diversity of this planet: our common birthrights.

Gratitude implores us to take only what we need so that others might live.

Gratitude insists that we care for each other in messy, challenging, unpopular, radical ways.

Gratitude is the sigh at the end of a day well-spent, whether with tears or pain or belly-aching laughter or deep soul gazes or whatever it took to feed our Children, whispering, "I am blessed to make the most of being alive."

Gratitude is the only redemptive final prayer.

What Would Dory Do?

(Disclaimer: this is a very silly but personally relevant reflection on a Disney movie...use what's at hand, right?)

At the story's beginning, Dory despairs. She believes that she has lost what's precious to her because she is who she is: forgetful, flighty, and seemingly directionless. At times, she feels trapped by the idea that those qualities can only yield the same sad results in her life. She feels she can't do anything "right."

However, by the tale's end (no spoilers!), she realizes she can accomplish incredible things, in fact, BECAUSE of who she is. She's willing to take a risk without certainty of the outcome. She trusts her intuition even when there isn't a clear "reason." She is optimistic and "just keeps swimming" even when setbacks seem insurmountable. She depends on friends to help where she knows she can't rely on just herself. Her friends in search of her end up finding her because they ask, "What would Dory do?"

Eventually, Dory begins to *intentionally* lean into her wacky way of moving through the world. In several tense moments, she comically asks herself, "What would I do? What would I do?" Each time, she's saved by her own unique approach. At last, doing what Dory would do allows her to reclaim her losses.

These days, I'm trying to ask myself a similar question. Instead of feeling anxious and trapped, depressed or despairing, I'm trying to take a deep breath and repeat this mantra: "What would Mandy do?"

When I think of my most aligned, grounded, open self and who She could be in the world, I catch a glimpse of who I want to be and become. The Best Me is someone I want to be like. Just checking in with myself is a practice in intentionally living better, one step (splash!) at a time.

My friends, the wide ocean of possibility needs YOU to be just who and how you are. We need your weird, your clever, your unprecedented, your unimaginable ways. Only you can BE you, and only by being ourselves wholeheartedly can we just keep swimming together.

Dory doesn't only end up finding something that was lost "out there." The happy ending is that she found...Dory. Dory found Dory, and only she knew the way.

Today, please go in search of yourself, each moment you can pause and pursue you. Sift through the reflexive reactions or self-judgments. I implore you to ask yourself, "What would ✨✨✨I✨✨✨ do?"

The answer to that will help us ALL find ourselves. 

Post-election Fireside Ponderings

🎶"We are the world..."
"What a wonderful world..."🎶
...songs and sentiments I want to believe.
We all just need warmth and light, someone to hold us.
We're all looking up at the same, big old moon.

But my friends' children are wailing in fear of their families being separated because they escaped here.
A child was murdered on the same street where I attended a baby shower this weekend...presumably because he was a refugee.
Brown and black neighbors in my city are being assaulted more blatantly because racist predators feel empowered.

These aren't illusions. The moon suddenly looks so big,
but in fact, it's even bigger... it's just so far away, it's easy to pretend we're imagining its enormity.

Fire breaks down everything it touches. We reflexively step back, stay safe...but sometimes, we're meant to walk right into it. Now, it's time.

In the end, personal relationships - and love - will save everything.

Election Vigil

A family from Michigan was trying to distract themselves from the news and just happened to come to the Big 4 Bridge. The parents and three children were in Louisville for a work conference but couldn't stand sitting in the hotel room, feeling alone. As they approached the foot of the bridge, they saw a few folks gathered with candles. They were asked, "Are you here for the vigil?"

Afterward, they introduced themselves with profuse gratitude. "We had no idea something like this was going on. It was just what we needed." They were just what I needed, too.

Someone standing next to me caught my eye, smiling in the candlelight. "I'm the sister of the first man who was married to his partner in Kentucky," she told me. We tearfully embraced. "They both had to work tonight, but I wanted to be somewhere...for them. For me." For all of us.

A student, a lawyer, a college professor, a Waldorf teacher, an international nonviolent witness, a retreat leader, a doula, an academic, a massage therapist, a writer. Children, parents, activists, friends, siblings, teachers, neighbors. Louisvillians. U.S. citizens. Companions.

All holding a light.
All turning to one another, sharing their names, looking into one another's eyes.
All standing next to flowing water, common element, and bridges, structures of connection.
All holding their fears and hopes and angers and despairs and visions.
All singing, "Dona nobis pacem."
All nodding in recognition that we MUST listen to our children and let them lead us.
All imagining what we hope to see in a more just and peaceful world.
All choosing to show up on a cold night to be reminded of who we are, and that we belong to each other.

Gratitude for that circle of light. Let's tend it. Let's be nourished by it. Let's grow it. Let's use it for our collective liberation.