In the convergence of science and spirituality, we are learning that certain practices like gratitude foster good feelings (and increased happy neurotransmitters like serotonin). But here's the thing. I get a bit irritated by positive thinking and affirmations. And a daily gratitude list can feel like one more chore.
But I absolutely love unplanned, unforced moments of deep gratitude - like when you realize you have stumbled into paradise after hiking a bit too long for your knees. Even more, I love deep gratitude for the seemingly mundane. Today's breakfast, for example...
Barley flakes (less gooey than oats), cooked with fresh blackberries from our local farm and mango. Mango. In California. In June. Vanilla. Himalayan pink salt. Palm sugar.
Given the state of the world, it's easy to focus on what's wrong. But I look at my breakfast, the stunning violet streaks of berry juice contrasted with the orange-yellow of mango, the Italian pan with its mottled, BPA free, long lasting nonstick surface -
- and I feel like I am looking at love.
I think about the care, kindness and attention that went into my breakfast from strangers, many who died hundreds of years ago. The slow, steady steps that led to the technologies of flight, refrigeration, agriculture. The scientists and designers who kept working and tweaking to make a lightweight pan for my arthritic elbows that will not give me cancer. I think about the people in India who planted, tended and harvested this mango. I think about the people who hand pollinate vanilla plants. I think about the people who collect the salt crystals. I think about the ancestors who learned, step by step, generation by generation, to make all of this possible.
For me, the miracle is the tenacity, the perseverance, and most of all, the love and care, that make humans all over the world work on creating safety, pleasure, comfort, easy, and joy on behalf of other humans they will never meet.
When I think of miracles in this way, just noticing how wonderful people can be (even though all those same people through the centuries have probably said something terrible about their spouses' foot odor from time to time), something happens in my heart. I soften. I breathe more deeply. For a moment, I fall in love with humanity, with all of its flaws and grumpiness. Today, hundreds of people, over generations, conspired to give me the ingredients and tools I needed to make a gorgeous, delicious breakfast. Thanks everyone!
And I take a moment to notice, to give myself that feeling of being cared for, loved - by others, but also by the parent within me, who wants nothing more than to treasure me. And I feel that love, for which, I am deeply grateful.
