My gratitude for all of this burns in my solar plexus. Sometimes I push against it. I have to consciously breathe it in — choose to expand rather than contract, choose to let it melt any illusions of lack. Mostly, I breathe, and smile deeply, and say Thank you. And then I detach a bit. Because you know, I don’t think I have much to do with anyone else’s a-ha’s. And I just get on with being expressive…grateful…expressive…grateful.