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…

I tend to focus more on the ‘what’ (as in, this is what I am grateful for or what gift is this?) and the ‘why’ (amateur philosophy and sophomoric curiosity, ‘why am I so lucky,’ or why did God bless me with X?) than the how.

Though I, and all that I think and don’t think, do and don’t do, say and don’t say will in equal measures pass away with me, I still feel there’s the gift of contribution that continues after me. Might as well know where I stand, stand there and be grateful for that.

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.

It’s been beat into my brain: God is Love (Deus Caritas est). And I’m not going to disagree. However… flailing Catholic that I am, God may well be love, but God is relationship vis-a-vis the Trinity, too. As such, I have loved well when love is animated by or works together with trust. Trust — be it hope or faith — is outside of my control. When I speak or write an email and I say, “I trust you are well,” it’s the same thing as saying “I hope you are well.” Likewise, when I say, “I believe you can do this,” it’s the same as, “I have faith in you.”

Love may be a priori of/for God but for me, love is best when it’s not alone but with trust: trust that love or my expression of love matters, is of value, is communicated well, and received, is helpful, is good regardless of how it’s received.

All that to say: I love best when I trust and trust is just as vulnerable as love.

There’s your word salad for the morning.

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.