Coming home to the heart

Thanksgiving Day appears on the calendar once a year in the U.S. Its originators were wise enough to set aside this time for us to stop and notice the bounty we've been given. I begin my thank you list with the gift of life itself. As a hospice volunteer I've had many opportunities to reflect on its wonder. How often I foolishly squander portions of it in days, weeks, and years of unconsciousness.

I know there have been times when I haven't really seen the sky or stars for days or weeks, felt the wind on my face, marveled at my body's ways of operating without instruction, or appreciated the many loving friends and family in my life. How could I have gotten so caught up in the minutia of life that I missed noticing these miracles? There are so many ways I've been richly blessed--in many ways beyond what others have. There is a roof over my head, one that keeps me dry and warm. I have enough food to eat, good health, and work that is fulfilling and frequently sacred.

Most extraordinary is the wisdom I've received from a host of wonderful, gifted teachers. Through their words and practices I've learned to seek shelter regularly in my heart and go there whenever I lose the path. The heart's metaphysical nature is universal Spirit, a space of love and peace. Especially in this season I offer my gratitude to extraordinary teachers including Jacki, Angela, Cindy, Craig, Goswami Kriyananda, Romana-ji, Karen, Elissa, Swami Muktananda, and Gurumayi. Dear teachers, for the first time today I recognize that I'm not lost anymore. I've been found right here where I've been all along.