Gratitude by unknown
I am grateful for my limits that teach me patience and pace
I am grateful for challenge, defeat, and loss
They teach me hope is not a light at the end of the dark tunnel
It’s the ember burning within me that I forgot to fan
I am grateful to my teachers for introducing me to myself
I am grateful for my past that has delivered me to my present
I am grateful for all I have found and all I have lost. Both remind me I can live with and without
I am grateful for silence and for laughter And for my ears that can hear both
I am grateful to my heart that beats and breaks and heals
I am grateful for the fullness of my life. For the brief, heartbreaking, heartwarming fullness of life.
In the end by Tara Mohr
In the end you won’t be known for the things you did, or what you built, or what you said.
You won’t even be known for the love given or the hearts saved, because in the end you won’t be known.
You won’t be asked, by a vast creator full of light: What did you do to be known?
You will be asked: Did you know it, this place, this journey?
What there is to know can’t be written.
Something between the crispness of air and the glint in her eye and the texture of the orange peel.
What you’ll want a thousand years from now is this: a memory that beats like a heart– a travel memory, of what it was to walk here, alive and warm and textured within.
Sweet brightness, aliveness, take-me-now-ness that is life.
You are here to pay attention. That is enough.
