Lucky

Today's Spiritual Practice from www.spiritualityandpractice.com/

Maybe one day we'll grow weary of whining and celebrate the rain, the manna, the half-filled glass of water, the little gifts from heaven that make each day bearable. Instead of cloaking ourselves in the armor of pessimism, maybe we'll concede that we are who we are: capricious, unfortune, wonderful, delicate, alive. Forgiven.
— Mark Collins in On the Road to Emmaus

To Practice This Thought: The next time you start complaining about your lot in life, don't listen.

Last night someone told her she had the worst day of her entire life, she lost her debit card right after she got her pizza, by her tone she was serious and distraught. And, as it was a stranger, I can't dispute her assessment of the situation.

However, not having made it to being non-judgmental, I couldn't help thinking how lucky it was that it was lost after the pizza, that she had money to buy a pizza, a place where people made the food for her, that she was able to go safely to the place. . . 

Nor will it probably stop me how awful that a room is cold when all I have to do is flip a switch or have a sweater I could put on

It did jar by thought track just a little to remember how lucky I am . . .

and from a fitting Rilke reading yesterday:

Unsayable

Things are not nearly so comprehensible and sayable as we are generally made to believe. Most experiences are unsayable; they come to fullness in a realm that words do not inhabit. And most unsayable of all are works of art, which —alongside our transient lives— mysteriously endure.

Paris, February 17, 1903

Letters to a Young Poet