This year has been a test; a series of lessons that turned into blessings, and a crazy amount of failures. This year has brought a lot of hurt. 

But for every splinter entering my flesh, there has been a reason to find thanks in the bleeding. 

For every dead end road I have reached, there has been grace in the wings I’ve been given. 

For every moment I haven’t been able to stand on my own, there have been endless offerings of arms to hold me and shoulders to lean on. 

This year, we got through it together. 

My together looks a lot different than it did last year, but I’m learning to find gratitude in second chances that many people never get. 

I’m learning to stop wishing for past promise or future hope and, instead, sit with the begging, piercing ache of now. 

The now that looks a lot different than I expected it to look. 

The now that looks a lot like embracing a whole new deck of cards. 

This year, I’m learning all over again just how big the world is. 

It is both humbling and terrifying to be reminded I am so small. 

This year, I have learned that there is no organized pattern in being delivered pain or peace, but I’m learning that both offer us a life changing gift if we are brave enough to unclench our fits and open our palms. 

I am thankful for the suffering, for it has helped me find clarity in what it means to be happy. 

I am thankful for the rug that was torn out from beneath my feet, for it has given me joy in simplicity. 

I am thankful for the love that has released me, because it has given me practice in letting go. 

I’m still not very good at it, but I have a feeling life will keep giving me more chances to practice. 

This year on Thanksgiving, thousands of miles away from home, surrounded by water and love and light, I’m most thankful for the brokenness. 

For the ability to find little jagged pieces of myself to seal up the cracks no matter where I go. 

I’m thankful that no matter how lost I get, the moon still finds me,

even on the other side of the world. 

This year, I’m thankful for my breath, a quiet exhale in the chaos. 

Part human, part universe. 

I am humbled and thankful that no matter how much has been taken away, I still find myself with more than enough. 

That no matter how broken my heart becomes, the waves find a way to cleanse me into something a little bit more whole. 

Maybe my heart is on to something here. Maybe the love and light gets in easier right where its broken. 

So from my little broken heart to yours. 

From Thailand to the moon and back, 

kòp kun mâak