I’m not opposed to a bit of sentiment, and as I’ve been standing around peeling chestnuts for what feels like the entire year, I’ve thought through all the many things I am thankful for this year.
I’m thankful, still, that I got myself off my ass and moved to LA after stagnating much longer than was good for me.
I’m thankful for the two beautiful feline souls that are inseparably cuddled up in mine.
I’m thankful for the friends who have cared enough (and dared enough) to help me this year, at times before I knew I needed the support in the first place.
I’m thankful for the countless fun times I’ve spent with all my friends this year.
I’m thankful for everyone on Facebook who takes the time to play and share and think together.
I’m thankful for the writers, artists, musicians, and creators past and present who add so much texture to my life.
I’m thankful for the resources that feed a compulsive book fetish that I can more or less satisfy.
I’m thankful for all the small luxuries I’m privileged enough to have.
I’m thankful for living in a house that I love and for inhabiting the great, vast house of being that I love, too.
I’m thankful for things that are almost too easy to take for granted (though unwise to do so): my health, my mind, and my upbringing.
I’m thankful for the future and what it will bring.
I’m thankful for every beautiful life and flicker in this entire universe. We are all here for each other.
And I’m thankful for a Grace I can barely conceive of or believe in.