On Gratitude for the Commonplace

On Gratitude for the Commonplace

As I consider Thanksgiving this year, I find myself aware of, and grateful for, things that happen all the time; the commonplace.

So I'm writing here with gratitude for the walk in the woods yesterday morning with my faithful dog companion. Sun glinting on the stream between the trees.

Coco Wheats with my mom and dad at their kitchen table. More than 60 years they’ve breakfasted there, scraping bowls to get up every last drop. In their advanced age it is just such a delight to be there with them. The snow whisping in the air outside, their quilted window cover drawn down low. Locating a set of matches to light the stove. The cat’s loud meow that seems to get bolder as she gets older. My unruly family and how passionately we care for and about each another.

The sun lighting marigolds I pulled inside before the storm. Meaningful work, and photography and writing. My students. Artists. Art. The gifts of a long friendship. Resilience.


This tradition of pausing for gratitude is a good one.

Thank you.

My readers.

May you have a Thanksgiving filled with grace and commonplace delight.






Happy Thanksgiving.

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