So 10,000 hours and you master something, dear Gladwell.
And I guess it was in my early twenties when I first read Spong's book. The first reading was the only reading, and I don't remember who I gave it to, but it was one of those books that you would not only recommend. It's one of those you gave away.
Which is interesting because that is when I first heard of such an intensive gratitude that it was essentially a state of being. And for whatever reason that thought, that one thing from that book, has lasted in my head for almost a quarter of a century.
Anyway. He suggested sin to be a state of being within any moment which you were not grateful.
I thought I was such the expert. Typing every night about gratitude. Bragging that if I don't do it it makes me physically ill. I mean I feel like maybe we all come here with something. Whatever that it is, it is what makes your ship sail. And wind blow and waves come and music plays and it is your joy, your light.
Today someone allowed cooled air to circulate in my house.
And I realized I had not been grateful enough for the air that fills my lungs.
Today I am grateful for air, for how it feels when it is cooled. For the suggestions of people who were all, Whut? I am grateful that it was only a situation of an attack of ants and that one guy is off in a forest feeding ants to a plant.