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i am practicing gratitude recently, like a mantra, like a meditation. this is something my muslim friends have taught me. crossing the street on a hot day the breeze comes down the canyon of skyscraper walls and lifts the hair from my sweaty neck; thank you. an old friend sends an email full of love and the weight of shared experience; al hamdullilah. through the flutter and hiss of an internet phone line a new friendship forms, crystalline, like the delicate multicolored towers that slowly expanded to fill an old fishbowl when i mixed the packets from my childhood chemistry set. thank you, thank you.

sometimes it is harder. i try to see the goodness in the pain in my arms that never seems to go away anymore, to be filled with joy all the time. my concentration slips a lot. i curse things that should be blessings. but the constant pressure to say my thanks out loud feels less like a constriction and more like support.

i long to be bound up in filaments of gratitude, strong and flexible, allowing pain to flow out like water through a sieve, holding happiness in.