I am Whooper Swan. I am who? I am walking, talking dirt. Made of earth stuff which was made of Sun’s fire. I walk and talk and laugh and cry. I can even fly! Now, Dear God, let my poor voice be heard.

A friend tells of a time in his youth when he lay in some grass looking up at the sky and felt completely happy for awhile. Nothing, he said, brought this experience into being. It was many years ago and he has never felt that way again. But he still searches for it. He had it for no reason, had it, and he searches. How foolish is that?  He makes gratitude lists when he already knows it comes out of nowhere for free. 

He has been told often by those he has met who are happy that gratitude comes from one thing only, it comes from knowledge you are alive. That other thing, the thought of gratitude, the words, “Thank you”, is all about good manners and has nothing to do with feeling grateful.  All the gratitude lists in the world will never bring the feeling of gratitude. And, so, my friend does not make the connection with his own simple experience lying in the grass doing nothing. Only meditating. What a tragedy!