Sometimes I look down at my feet and I'm struck by how grateful I am for all they've done for me. I couldn't explain it to anyone else... they'd just say, "Uh, yep. Feet are so cool." That’s usually the best I can hope for. They may mean it, but they’re unable to feel it like I do in the moment.
That's because the realization comes as an epiphany and there's a certain energy behind it, an emotion. I’ve never been able to track these little outbursts of gratitude; their genesis is as much a mystery to me as any language of the Eskimos. But to whatever cosmic tumblers fall into place to make them happen… more please.
I want to feel, deeply, more gratitude for the gift of sacred life, for clean water I can drink directly from a stream as it courses sparkling over mossy rocks. More gratitude for the substrate of stillness that’s underneath, over and through, like, everything, inviting me to just stay present. More gratitude for the sparkle in her eyes, or the way the clouds skate across the skies.
Meditation helps, I’m certain, because gratitude is the natural state of the soul. I’m more apt to feel it when I feel connected rather than distracted from the innate beauty of life.
More meditation facilitates greater gratitude