Before I even arrived to my mat I began running through the things I am grateful for, like the incredible people in my life and the everyday things that bring me happiness, like my job, my casita, even my car, and so on. I was thinking of all the things that one is sort of expected to be thankful for and I felt almost afraid of not coming up with enough things—I mean 108 is a lot of anything. So I jotted down mental notes to remember specific things, like Callie my beloved cat, my health, the Organic Gardens at work, the ocean, the mountains, the trails, even my daily drive to work.But when I arrived at my mat all these things slipped my mind and I began meditating on the strangest things. I began meditating on strangers I’ve never even met, on the collective energy of the crowded micros (like public buses) in Chile, the incredible vitality of farmers markets and town plazas, the smile on a passerby that was the spitting image of my brother’s, and the countless smiles exchanged in coffee shops and at stoplights. I began to give thanks to memory— the way it informs us, shapes us, humbles us, and always gives us the chance to make amends. I gave thanks for the opportunity to breathe and truly feel my breath, to feel it moving, circulating, energizing, nourishing. I thought of the place deep inside which yearns for breath—of the words needing a voice, of the passions needing pathways, of the thirst so desperately needing to be quenched. As I rose back to standing position 108 times, I was humbled by the chance to salute the sun, the heavens, the gods, the Creator, our loved ones, our ancestors, my Self in the here and now and my Self in the past and future; our Selves that are beyond physical description and boundary.