I'm thankful that the yoga class I was trying to go to this morning was cancelled--or anyways, the doors to the building were locked. I'm thankful that after wandering around the building for a few minutes wondering if I would find a different entrance, I decided to go do yoga in the park instead. I'm thankful that I found a lovely spot in the southern part of Washington Park, with an open field unfolding in front of my mat and the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the sun shining overhead. I'm thankful for moments like that when gratitude comes to me naturally. I'm thankful for the slow jazz that was blasting from speakers in a nearby part of the park where a couple of guys were setting up for some kind of a party. I'm thankful for the solitude of the grassy spot that I picked.
I am thankful for the grandeur of the landscaping of southern Washington Park--a remnant, I think, though I could be wrong, of the World's Fair. I'm thankful for the other places where the World's Fair left its mark, on the Midway and in Jackson Park. I'm thankful for the exhibit the Field Museum did a few years ago on the World's Fair, which I particularly appreciated for its anthropological hue.
I'm thankful for the familiarity of the landscape here in Chicago. I'm thankful to traverse streets that I feel connected to. I'm thankful to experience again the weight of the city. I'm thankful for the chance to re-investigate my relationship with this place that exactly a year ago I couldn't wait to leave.
I am thankful to return to places that I used to call home. I am thankful for the way in which returning can make a place feel more beloved. I am thankful for how much time I have spent thinking about place and home since leaving my parents' house for college. I am thankful for the restlessness and curiosity that have led me to call many places home over these years, and I am thankful that I am ready now to settle into a place that I can call home for more than a few months or a year.
I'm thankful that I will send these thank you notes in to Justin to send out through his Tinyletter. I am thankful to feel like it is time that I gathered the courage to do this, after considering it many times before. I'm thankful that despite feeling nervous that others might read these, I know that I write them for myself. I'm thankful that despite writing for myself, because it is something that I love, I want more and more to share my writing with others.
I'm thankful for the cafe where I am writing these notes, with shelves full of art books and wide windows overlooking the boulevard. I am thankful for this yellow journal, with its straight lines and smooth pages. I am thankful to hand write these notes, though I will have to transcribe them later, because my handwriting sometimes feels like the truest expression of myself.