Stirring up gratitude

In a flash, memories of joy and sorrow mingle in thanksgiving.

By James Ishmael Ford 

As I was making oatmeal this morning, I found my gaze focused on the large wooden spoon I was using to stir oats into boiling water. Many memories, many thoughts bubbled with the oats.

I have spent much of my life engaged in the spiritual quest. I spent some time as a Zen monk and many years after in which making a living was not high on the list for me. Instead I gave my time to meditation retreats, study, and similar projects. No complaints; it made me the person I am today. But it did mean I lived pretty close to the bone.

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