I woke up this morning still shining from the polish of the evening before. A last minute dinner invitation was eagerly accepted, and the simple, delicious meal of bread, soup, salad and chocolate shards was just as nourishing and satisfying as the conversation that ensued. Subjects ranged from bad breakups to pop culture to a place called Girdwood, all before parking on the topic of gratitude (no doubt encouraged by the presence of fine chocolate and good company).
Close friends who needn’t impress, we went around the table sharing the good, the bad and the ugly, the laughable and the regretful. The exchange was unhurried and sweetly telling , little moments disclosed that made me even fonder of the diners I was already so fond of. We took a few detours, but the paths led back to a sincere appreciation in knowing that small moments assemble to make a big life. Needless to say, I wanted second helpings.
I share this recollection with no intention of being smug, or of dishing up some thinly-veiled braggadocio. Simply, the moment moved me, providing me a lesson to leave my laments and carping in the kitchen with the dirty dishes. To clear the table of such things once in while and dine on gratitude.
I need neither a winning lottery ticket nor a new car to tell me my life is good. That being surrounded by the beauty of nature, the richness of friendship and the gift of abundance is not to be taken for granted or lightly. There is power in being thankful; it is high octane fuel for the head and the heart.
So this morning as I try to pen a thank you note worthy of my spirited hostess, I struggle a bit. Perhaps, all I need to say is thank you; your dinner left (and continues to leave) me full.