To be even aware, to be grateful.
For waking up every day feet firmly on the floor, regardless of how I feel.
That I can still run in my 6th decade alongside nature, my truest companion.
Reading as a major part of my life…still curious, still amazed at all I don’t know.
My love of words…writing…prose spawning on the page, knowing how lucky I am to enjoy it so much.
Self-control so not to kill all the people who drive me crazy with their lack of consciousness bumping into walls as they go…too often bumping into me.
Animals in my midst and their owners who kindly share them.
The breeze sweeping through my apartment making it feel as I’m sailing, the wind at my back.
That I can afford such a pretty place with sunlight and charm, it’s walls resounding with those who came before me.
Going back into a 12-step group where I’m accepted for just who I am…no more, no less knowing life will get better if I sit and listen.
My friend Ed who never lets me down, who, when I ask anything of him always cheerfully chirps…it’s my pleasure, really.
David, who feels like the brother I never had…
and Mazzilli, my lifeboat when the sea misbehaves, who I can count on without explanation, riding in like the cavalry.
The hearing I still have…the eyes of a kid, as I’m told…a healthy body still running, while my heart remains open, beating like a drum.
And to think, this is just the tip of the iceberg.
It takes my breath away, reminding me how lucky I am to be here, with all of you.