Today I choose to be thankful for the things I forget are gifts.
For the perpetual mess that reminds me of magical play. For spaceships and tepees, farms and firehouses, treasures and collections. Memories and problem solving in the making.
For the dirty dishes in the sink and the good food we shared while laughing (and yelling and crying ) about our days.
For the dirt tracked in on boots and dust blown through heating vents that collects in the corners and clings to the baseboards of our little red house. This house that keeps us safe and warm.
For the daily 20 minute ritual of negotiating getting dressed with a sanguine child who, while bending over to pull up her tights, realizes that there is absolutely no better time than the present to practice her yoga poses. Best to be reminded of the important detours in life from time to time.
For every household task that takes 10 times longer because these children just have to work.
For barn chores in the winter cold, and knowing where our eggs and milk come from.
For remembering the joy we find when following the yes-to-life energy of a small child. Small dusting of snow on a frigid day an obstacle to sledding? Certainly not!
And for the karma of community, family and partnership in all their forms. For the unconditional love and measured respect we share with each other, and the moments that we bump into each other, rub each other the wrong way, step on the wrong toes. All the little moments that propel us toward ourselves each and every day.