Even for someone with their head in the clouds, I appreciate being grounded.

The feeling of gravity, feet on the ground. Looking at my feet, gazing at the sky, eyeing the horizon. Taking a single step—or six million. Walking, running, cycling. Lying down, feeling the force of the earth against skull, shoulders, sacrum, heels. Everything equal and opposite.

Waking up in the morning and climbing a mountain—what a pain. But then you’re on top of a mountain. Easier: rolling down a grassy slope like the happiest kid in the world. Staring at ants and earthworms, wondering whether they know how small they are. Wondering the same about the pyramids, skyscrapers, Taj Mahals—piles of dirt piled up by people treated like dirt by kings and wealthy bankers who are now or soon to be dirt themselves. The whole lot of us, iron, oxygen, and energy, slugging around, feasting on organic matter. Life feeding on life feeding on life.

Today I’m thankful for this big sphere of soil and rock we call home, planet Earth.