A Brief Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude

after Ross Gay

I’ll start with the tree leaves, especially the golds and scarlets beckoning in the breeze, and the way the sunlight illuminates the back of them like a thousand glow sticks.

The ephemeral beauty of autumn also means that college basketball season is back! Elliot Cadeau is better than ever. Same for Lexi Donarski. I’m grateful for big tests for the teams against Kansas and UConn. I’m grateful for learning experiences.

It’s now dark earlier in the evening, so the (nearly) full moon is like a shining pearl even before I sit down to dinner. I might have missed this gorgeous sight if not for a text from my friend, alerting my attention.

Another friend called from the hospital, where he was donating plasma and platelets, and asked if I had time to talk—he was a “captive audience.” I’m grateful for the groaning chuckles at puns. I’m grateful for friends and the connections we make across texts, calls, and bowls of fried potatoes at Breakaway Cafe.

My youngest came home from school bursting with the news that, as part of their class observance of a “gratitude gathering,” students will prepare and share a Cherokee dish known as a Three Sisters Salad because it’s composed of beans, squash, and corn.

I’m grateful for people who remind me to take a deep breath. Rabbi Sharon Brous recently preached, “We cannot be brave without our breath.” Coleman Banks translated Rumi: This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. I’m grateful for wisdom, whatever its source, whether religious or Walt Disney—“Boat snack upgrade!” (Maui in Moana 2).

After checking the news updates on my phone this morning, I was walking around the neighborhood, addled and worried by what I’d read, when I heard the distinctive hoot of a barred owl. As I breathed in the smell of wet grass, the owl hooted again as if to say, There’s plenty more where that came from.