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Pomegranates, Black Pants, and Sunrises

I’ve been delighted with small surprises in the last few days.

Over the weekend, I was sitting next to a woman at a karate tournament who was eating pomegranate seeds. "Is that a pomegranate?" I was curious as I had only seen the dried pomegranates in lovely wreaths from Smith and Hawken and fresh pomegranates in the grocery store, sitting in the part of the produce section that holds fruits and veggies that confound me.

How exactly does one prepare an artichoke? The same question had occurred for pomegranates. I found out that the seeds are what one eats, surrounded by a lovely crimson juice, tart and sweet at the same time. Sort of a more delicate and refined version of a grape.

If you’ve never seen the inside of a pomegranate, buy one and cut it in half, just for the kick of it. The deep red seeds (I’d love to paint a bathroom this color) are nestled in clumps between creamy beige membranes. Together, they form a star-like pattern under the protection of a leathery rind. It’s like no other fruit I’ve encountered.

My 10-year old son was sitting next to me at the karate tournament and sampled the pomegranate seeds. He liked it so much that later that day, at the grocery store, I bought a pomegranate. And then he and I sampled our own. It was the first new food that he’s eaten with such gusto since he discovered Brownie Earthquakes at Dairy Queen a couple of years ago.

My second delight came when I was cleaning out my closet. I discovered a pair of heavy brushed cotton pants that I had bought last year and completely forgotten about. I was thinking I would give them as a Christmas present to my sister-in-law and discovered they fit so well that I decided to keep them (sorry, Bean!) Finding these black pants, the kind that works with just about anything and makes you look and feel good, was like finding money in a coat pocket. It just makes you happy when you see it.

My third delight was this morning at 6:45am, driving my 12-year old son to school for jazz band rehearsal. There is usually very little to celebrate in getting up this early on a cold winter morning. But this morning, I saw the most beautiful sunrise, bright pink stripes across the sky. I took a route that afforded the most unobstructed views. I told my son that sunrises are special because they only appear for a few minutes and then they transform into a more mild mannered light against the sky. It is as if we have gotten on the road to be in the right place at the right time, just to see the magnificence of the Western sky when night turns into day.

I recently received two emails about a gratitude experiment with a nifty flash video to introduce the topic. Yes, gratitude is what I’ve experienced over the past few days. But this is no experiment. Gratitude is right under our noses–in closets, in grocery stores, on the way to school. Open yourself up to being delighted.

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