The practice or ritual that has been most consistent: Sunday Mass.

Some rituals and practces are not as consistnet as that, but a close second is also Saturday mornings. I joke that as tough as the last week may have been, as I clean my coffee maker every Saturday morning (after I’ve drunk the days coffee) I’m engaging in a hope-filled action — a future affirming action — by going through the ritual of cleaning the coffee maker as it prepares the way for another seven days coffee; a preperation for another seven mornings.

Embarrassing as it is vulnerable… whether it’s my natural disposition, the affects of two-plus-years of the pandemic, or simply my station in life (thirties, two young kids, wife, and a mortgage) or any combination thereof I hate to say it but I’ve recently realized what I want to learn more of is whatever will ensure the wellbing of my family. That is, I’ve switched from wanting to learn more about that which inspires and fascinates or feed and satiates curiosity and self-actualization to prioritizing the learning of professional skills and abilities. Feels disappointing, but it remains accurate.

Being “thankful” appears to require an acknowledgement.

One might state they are thankful to the person they are thankful, or state their thankfulness publicly in front of others; one might state what they are doing or going to do is because or on behalf of a person or that persons mission/passion (and they wish to further that paved path). Perhaps in the silence of prayer one acknowledges to God the persons.

There are more ways than acknowledgement but I think that’s a core aspect of thanking someone, especially someone who has paved your way.

Can a paradox be a feeling? Often when I feel love to the world it’s because I am “close” to something: a person, a beautiful garden/tree/river, and then the sense of love wells up, and the experience is that all other thoughts, feelings, objects are moved “far” from my conscienceless. The experience is a pleasant and unsolicited singular focus on that which is causing the experience of love in this world.

How exactly does that take shape? Not sure how to tackle that question until I have another cup of coffee…

In the morning, as I leave for work, I tell my six year old, “What are we going to do today?” And thanks to wrote memorization she responds, “Listen, learn lots, and do good great.”

At bed time, I ask her, “Now, did we listen; did we learn lots; what did we do that was great?”

It’s not explicit, but usually there’s an act or a story recounted that was predicated on gratefulness or conversely an act or a story where listening, learning, or doing good great didn’t happen and one can draw the conclusion that those instances lacked gratitude.

Additionally, the first question at our call-and-response bed time prayers with my daughter is this, “Did you have a good day?”

If she responds, “yes,” I then say, “what do you say to God?” She responds, “Thank you.”

If she responds, “no,” I then say, “what do you say to God?” She responds, “Thank you.”

Some days a terrible awful and no good in whole or in part but at the end of each day as I pray with my daughter we together remind ourselves to be grateful for each day regardless of it’s joys or sorrows mingled.

As someone who seeks abundance (both in a spiritual sense, but yes also in the more problematic capitalistic sense) sufficiency is hard to identify because when you’re seeking abundance, most everything measures up to insufficient.

I tell my daughter when she’s pouring out ranch dressing, “that’s sufficient.” It has become somewhat of an inside joke because I say it so often. “Dad said sufficient!” And then her little brother chimes in, “Sufficient, sufficient!”

So, beyond a sufficient supply of ranch dressings, I would say my family is sufficient as is their love, humor, and compassion.