man oh man oh man

... were Lester Burnham's last words before he was shot in the head in American Beauty. Moments earlier he was surprised to find himself, when asked how he was, suddenly able to say, "I'm great." And really mean it. Standing under the blue sky and bright sun on this most beautiful of days, I found myself looking up and saying his words: man oh man oh man (and instantly felt the urge to check behind me for a gun).

I write to share the same revelation. I'm great. Anyone who's been around knows there were patches that were decidedly not great (I refer especially to the month of camping out in an abandoned construction site), and there will be such patches again. Making it all the more important to point it out when life is great.

This all came to my attention after encountering situations I honestly thought would have set me to longing for one thing or another. I was genuinely surprised to discover that instead of wishing for what I don't have, I really prefer what I do have to anything else. I'm where I want to be. In every way. I love my family and friends, and find those relationships so fulfilling. I love what I do, and feel competent to do it. I feel good about the food I eat, and the clothes I wear. I don't wish I was richer, thinner, prettier, more or less anything. All of which has nothing to do, incidentally, with being perfect.

Same goes with life. Mine's not perfect... there really isn't even that much to it. When I'm not doing the usual work of living, I'm mostly just bumbling around on the guitar or attempting to cook or playing frisbee with the dog. But some of my contentedness probably comes from welcoming and preserving that simplicity. From loving what I have and allowing it to be enough. And, from being grateful.

I learned my style of gratitude from listening to Dr. Crump teach about the Old Testament Jews. I don't know half of what I perhaps should about Judaism, but I remember learning that all those detailed, particular rituals in the Torah pretty much boil down to being grateful ALL THE TIME. For every moment - getting up, eating meals, leaving the house - there is a ritual that in essence says, "thank you."

I loved that idea, and took it for myself. Gratitude is, really, a good deal about what it means for you. It re-benefits the beneficiary. :) It means you name it when this moment is good, and this one, and this one. Before you know it there's beauty to name all over, and suddenly the whole world offers itself to you (harsh and exciting...). Practicing gratitude opens your eyes to the goodness that's all around, and it makes everything brighter.

Gratitude doesn't only brighten what you see. It helps you see what you might have otherwise missed. Emily of Our Town saw all there was to be grateful for when she returned to one day of her life after she died. She saw every good thing as she had never noticed it in life: coffee, and oranges, and her mother. Clocks ticking. She cried out that so much is happening in every moment, but it happens so fast that we don't notice; we don't have time to look at one another. She asked, "Do human beings ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute?"

We don't. And honestly I think if we did, we would all spontaneously explode. But by practicing gratitude, hopefully I'll be able to say that for most of those minutes, I was there... and it was great.