Instead of doing 30 days of Thankfulness I’m switching it up this year. 

I think it will be good for me. All twelve months are listed on Pinterest. I need to get back in the habit of writing. Time is so hard to come by, though, between working, keeping house, cooking dinner, my own maintenance (which seems to grow by the day), reading my self imposed goal of sixty books this year, and catching up on social media. But anyway. 

So. Day One. Heartbeat.

Well. The obvious is when your heart starts beating, you’re here, and when it stops, you’re not. 

But I’m not normal and the first thing that comes to mind is Brian talking about wood fences that don’t lay with the land and have “heartbeats” (bumps). 

But for the sake of a good story, we’ll track back to the customary usage. 

I see more hearts stopping than I do starting. 

My heart stopped the first time I laid eyes on Johnny. I know it did.

I’ve seen heart stoppingly gorgeous creatures; horses at play in fields and working cattle, their muscles rippling and manes flying away from their necks as they turn on a dime (my heart has stopped when I  became separated from said equine in a grand fall). I’ve witnessed panthers pacing and stalking prey, their gorgeous shining coats showing just a shimmer of dapples. I’ve watched fish glide and birds soar and swoop and wondered at the ease of which they go and how could my eyes possibly take in all the details? I’ve stumbled upon deer frolicking and turkeys strutting and scared up a hoot owl in pursuit of a small groundhog and it was all heart-stopping-fantastic. Even bats and cicadas are beautiful as the sun goes down in a sherbet sky. Pause and watch sometime. Your heart may give pause.

I’ve read poetry of such magnificence my heart stopped and watched breathtakingly beautiful mountain scenes pass outside my window and stared perplexed at fog and waterfalls and impossibly clear days. 

I’ve ridden heart stopping roller coasters, where you pull 3G’s upside down with your head eighteen inches from the ground and you just know this is IT. 

I’ve been at weddings where the beautiful bride just cries into her perfect flowers and wonders at the perfection of the day and how could her heart possibly hold another ounce of love? So it stops on her day and everything is a snapshot for that one moment.

My heart has stopped in haunted houses. I hate that crap where they sneak up after you when you think you’re on to the next attraction.

I’ve witnessed hearts stopping in hospital waiting rooms when they get the news they’ve been praying about.

There’s much debate over abortions, and when an embryo crosses the line from being cells to being a human.  The argument is frequently made that the fetus gains a heartbeat at around three weeks old, and so that’s the defining line. You pray for heartbeats. You pray for your own if you’re sick, and you pray for more for those you love, and you pray for it to be strong if you’re carrying.

The heart of rock and roll is still beating, according to Huey Lewis. The Heartbeat of America is today’s Chevrolet. And I’d eat a dozen cupcakes in a heartbeat if I wouldn’t gain 10 pounds.

Heartbeats. Takes all kinds.