When Mazal died, Nava told me that my grandmother had once said, “Pity the people who die, for their memory is soon lost.” I knew I would never forget Mazal, and I’m delighted that her spirit now lives on in other people’s imaginations.

When I returned to the USA, I signed up for a local belly dance class. I could feel the spirit of Mazal at my side — her boisterous, affectionate self dancing next to me. She was dressed in fun, bold colors and flowing fabrics, grabbing my hips while laughing and yelling, “SHAKE it! SHAKE it!” I was holding back tears throughout my first class.

As far as gratitude goes, I could not agree more about the importance of appreciating what we have. As part of my Setback Action Plan (for the periods where my pain is disabling), I have a practice of writing down 50 things for which I am grateful (no less than that, specifically because in the moment I’m convinced I can’t possibly come up with so many positive things in my life). They often include the basics that are so pivotal to our survival and comfort: having a roof over my head, food on my plate, clothes on my body…

Inevitably, when I first sit down to write my gratitudes, I’m grouchy, crabby, and drowning in self-pity. By the time I finish, however, I generally feel pretty damn lucky — in awe of the many gifts I have to cherish.

I love the idea of how the kabbalist begins the day. I’m going to try that tomorrow morning. Thanks!