we’re all writing a story. let it be a ‘thank you’ tale, the kind that leaps into every breath, into each crevice of your bones. let your blinks and beats, steps and songs, sing thanks.
for pollen dust and leaf spines. for the cells that compose music like you and me. tiny thank you’s.
big thanks, like for rainforest soup–steamy and diverse. or for star map, sky pokes who light our path. big thanks like for your best relationship, whether a friend or a sister, a spouse or a child. thank for that relationship without which you may not be alive.
don’t forget the things we forget to notice. the warm sunlight hugging your kitchen counter in late afternoon. the dew dotting grass blade in the first tick tock of day. ocean waving. the constant symphony composed by birds in your backyard. (don’t let them be without an audience!)
don’t forget the things we take for granted. health, a home, clothes, food, friends, family, oxygen, sleep, running water, indoor plumbing, electricity, technology, cars, rain.
count. one, two… six hundred four! oh the blessings we have! number your gifts and you will never be dry.
we’re all writing a story. let it be a dance of gratitude. a movie showing every gift. there is always something to be grateful for. the little. the big. the things that go unnoticed. the things taken for granted. take a moment and list what you have. write it down. paste it somewhere you see. thank, count, smile. BURST with thanks! truly, there are too many gifts to number. choose, to see the good.
A joyful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones.
Annabeth Istvan spews stories like rainbows waterfall colour, all while her kids sleep. with the imagination of a six year old, Istvan writes children’s books, poetry, and humour. check out her blog annabethistvan.com for more whimsical sprinklings. follow her on twitter: @AnnabethIstvan for updates on her humour book “Bubble”, debuting spring 2021.