Not gonna lie. So far, 2020 has been a rough one. I fought off an awful virus. I lost a few loved ones. And now, the virus is back in our little Pandemic Pod of 6 for Round 2.

Our already tiny Thanksgiving dinner of 8, will likely now be a party of 3 or 4. 2020 keeps teaching us, over and over again, not everything goes according to plan, and absolutely nothing is guaranteed. I know this.

And even while I was gasping for air in March, sobbing uncontrollably in April, screaming in agonizing disbelief in July, I always knew somewhere, deep down inside of me, that even those moments were gifts.

It’s a simple practice. Every day I wake up grateful. As soon as I open my eyes I am grateful that I’m still alive. I run through a list in my mind as I stretch and step out of bed.

Grateful for this day.
Grateful for this body.
Grateful for this breath.
Grateful for my family.
Grateful for my friends….

It feels different every day. Some days it’s pure, straightforward, and even joyful.
Some days there’s an annoying subtext.

Grateful for this day… but it’s gonna be cold. But it’s raining. But it’s too hot.

Grateful for this body… But it’s mushy. But it’s wrinkled. But it’s breastless and misshapen.

Grateful for family and friends… But all of those we’ve lost. But all of those who are struggling. But the isolation of the pandemic.

But mostly it’s just okay. No matter what is happening in my life, no matter what is going on in the rest of the world. I am always grateful for another moment.

Grateful for another opportunity to do the next right thing, the next good thing, the next helpful thing. Grateful for the opportunity to do the next anything at all.

Some days it’s right at the surface, ready to overflow. Some days it’s a deep dip down into that well.

So far, today is not so bad. Tomorrow, if I’m lucky, I’ll get to do it again.

Happy Thanks Giving.