Addendum to thankfulness

For a good dancer telling you dancing with you is like kissing the
sky (even if he continued to rave after dancing bachata, which you do
not dance well at all).

For huevos ala Colombia with French Roast coffee.

For friends who call.

For all the unknown (and the few who make yourselves known) who
actually read my blog.

For those of you who share in return.

For not being the owner or cause of the burning car on the side of
the 101 last night (a truly frightening site).

For not having to watch my home be burned or threatened by more
wildfires in Malibu.

See . .. it does get easier . . .

Thankfulness . . . and not writing

For lack of anything to write about, to try to get myself back to
writing, a list of things I have been thinking about with gratitude
to hurl myself through this first holiday of the winter season.
It shouldn't be so difficult, I know. It does get easier . . . we
went around the table all saying what we are thankful for.

Here are all the things I might have said:

For the full moon in the middle of the afternoon over the clear view
of the mountains overlooking Burbank.

For my arms and legs that can carry the plethora of bags and boxes
from my car, though my parking garage, up three floors, and through
the halls winding to my apt.

For my car and my apartment

For salsa dancing

For yoga

For my heart that still bleeds at the pain of others, that still
feels pain, which means it can still love

For friends who are still hear

For friends who have disappeared

For having enough clothes that my laundry piles up too quickly

For all my senses

For all I have

For being able to let go of all I have

For not HAVING to let go of all I have

For cinnamon and pies

For being literate

For the wind chimes and wind

For my balcony and all the plants that live on it despite my frequent
neglect

For a plant appearing at my door, a friend entrusting me to answer
it's plea, "Please feed me" when she is gone

For my job

Of course, for my family . . .

Salsa Lesson #166

I haven't been doing enough yoga.

My back aches and I've had a slight but persistent headache much of the week.

Back into salsa lessons, my teacher once again provided the counseling
I sometimes don't know I need in the guise of salsa lessons. "Just
let things happen. See, there . .. you are trying to make something
happen," he stops me in the middle of the move. We try again. "Ah,
there, you just let it happen."

I know this. Like I know how to do a turn but need to hear it that
millionth and one time before I 'get' it. I wish I had this lesson
about six months ago. Or two weeks ago. Or a year ago, exactly.

Yet, if it were not for that fateful night nearly one year ago, I
probably would not have been at this salsa class tonight.

Just let it happen.

Maybe, the millionth and second time is what it will take to get it.

Just let it happen.