It’s early evening in New Mexico’s high desert, the beginning of the end of Thanksgiving 2015 in America.
I am thankful for all the blessings in my life. I am grateful for the roof over our heads, even though it’s a bit leaky in places. I’m grateful to wake each morning to the sound of birds–when so many people huddle awake in the darkness surrounded by the explosions of missiles or the stutter of gunfire. I am so so so grateful for my beautiful daughter, and I pray that she stays safe and flourishes in this challenging world. I am in awe of her resilience, her experience, her depth of emotion and her goal to make good use of her wisdom and to survive with her tender heart intact.
I am sometimes overwhelmed by the depth of intent and work it takes to begin to know oneself. I fight despair at our human capacity for cruelty. And so I am in awe of the kindness and goodness so many people extend to family and strangers alike.
I am grateful for my writer friends all over this world, voices raised courageously, reaching for truth.
So as this day ends here in the land of an endless sky I give thanks.