Sometimes I struggle with gratitude; because of my job and the environment where I live, I often feel very heavy, very tired, and sad. I’d like to think that years of meditation and reading Marcus Aurelius would have instilled in my the kind of stoic zen that would allow me to rise above my suroundings, or be the change I would like to see, but that’s a level of spiritual development I have yet to attain.

This summer, I went on my first scuba diving trip - aside from the being immersed in an innately wild environment, largely uninterrupted by the decadent folly of man, I learned a lot about breathing. My air consumption is ridiculously high underwater and I realized how much stress and tension affect my ability to breath, and how grateful I am for every breath I take in.

I’m grateful to be breathing now, taking in physical and psychological buoyancy, and I’m grateful to be going back to that underwater landscape soon. I’m grateful that my breath is nourishing the wild, natural world, and I’m grateful that I didn’t see a majestically peaceful manta ray (depicted here) - it gives me something to look forward to.