When something does not insist on being noticed, when we aren't grabbed by the collar or struck on the skull by a presence or an event, we take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude.
I expect crescendo. I don't want to be struck on the skull, but I have grown accustom to big gestures that alert body and mind to big events. A vote that will change everything. Battering winds that sever trees. Champagne bottles popping. Every hour something big, pressing, important. It's fix after fix after fix. Everything matters because nothing matters.
Isn't this why we love sunsets? The slow easing, our rapt attention to quiet change. Even while we want to be grabbed by the collar and made acutely aware — feel blood moving, heart beating, skin flushing — we crave calm. We want to hear the smallest bird call, feel the chill of dawn, taste a singular satisfaction.
I don't really want big voices and urgent attention. Draw me, please, to the quiet corner where gratitude lives, and makes room for me.
It's Thankful Thursday, a weekly pause for appreciation.
What are you thankful for today?