November 2026 "Thankful for the Little Things" by Paula Rawlings

I’m thankful for antique stores and vintage shops, for the freedom to run my fingers over textured fabrics, read a page or two from an unknown author’s first edition, and test the weight of tarnished jewelry dripping with amber, amethyst, and aquamarine. I think, what made the throat of the now-deceased woman giggle as this amber necklace pressed heavy againsts her chest, what tidbit of gossip made her ears itch while wearing these amethyst earrings, and what did she conceal in her damp palms when she wore this aquamarine ring inlaid in scarred silver. Most of all, I’m thankful for not buying anything and instead going home to watch the changing clouds breath in and out as their ghosts haunt the valleys and hills nearby. This is more enjoyable than tangible treasures hoarded over lifetimes and discarded by family after death.

I’m thankful for good music, even mediocre or elementary music, played through a speaker in the car, through earbuds, or live at home or at a concert: a flute, guitar, piano, drums. I’m thankful for the music of trees and the melody they sing and play (even if I can’t understand them), dry grass dancing death’s collective skeletal dance, and the earworm I satisfy by singing.

I’m thankful for a tongue to taste a thick slice of Costco chocolate cake (the one with chocolate flakes around the circumference) and a glass of unsweetened almond milk.

I’m thankful for the wind on the soles of my feet, even when it tickles the little hairs on my toes; for the crispness of my skin after a cold shower in the evening right before bed, once my hair is dry, and I’m ready to crawl under a weighted blanket. I’m thankful for my brain when it opens up, like when I eat wasabi, or after a long head cold. I love an attack of goose-bumps after jumping in the lake during a breezeless California summer. I’m comforted knowing my neurons are still doing their job. They’re working. I’m alive.

I’m thankful for doing a good job not because I have to but because I want to. I’m thankful for easing the  tension behind a much-loved old lady’s shoulders when I give her a massage and receiving a massage from a fat diabetic cat who loves to give but not receive. I’m thankful for learning something well, not because I have to, but because I enjoy it, and when I actually retain what I learn. A great workout, stretching, laughing hard and long, exploring, fixing stuff (like replacing a lightbulb), changing guitar strings or a tire, making a sandwich to share, being with friends, awesome dreams (grocery store dreams in which I can take whatever I want without paying, but I have to go through the cash register to thank the cashier so I can wake up retaining my haul). I’m thankful for the feeling of falling, having a clean space, reading a good book, exchanging thoughts with strangers, and for being thankful.