The gift

River water! Ice is gone. What a gift.

I walk through tall old growth pines. Over jagged rocks. Next to the clear river. All gifts.

In Native American understanding, the earth was given to us. Every year, the animals that are born, the food that is grown, the sun that shines. All are gifts.

I love that way of thinking.

That sweet baby. Where did she come from? We came in – each one of us – as a gift.

And we continue to receive gifts: of friendship, of food, of nature.

But also, of inspiration. Of ideas. Of creations that we produce.

The point is to see it all as gift. Forget the effort, right? Just let those gifts flow. Aaaaaaaah.

Loving how that feels.