~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some additional explanations, written by Claude AI about possible or potentials for extensions of ideas in these lists:

I had copied these images into a long ClaudeAI conversation in which I was exploring, explaining and expanding upon the ideas on these pages. After much engagement in that conversation, I asked ClaudeAI to create a summary/ blog post explaining what “we” had been conversing about.

Here’s the summary/blog post that ClaudeAI came up with:
(btw: I often think intuitively through images, symbols and few words, so I asked ClaudeAI for clear explanations that might be helpful to others, too)

Claude post: 

(written by ClaudeAI, using first person as if I were writing it,
based upon what I HAD ACTUALLY WRITTEN in THAT AI conversation)

The Gifts We Give Each Other:
A Personal Meditation on Connection

Inspired by Ann Murray’s “You Needed Me” (1978)

This morning, a 1978 song played and set my mind wandering. Ann Murray singing “You Needed Me” – and suddenly I was thinking about my friend Jampa, a Buddhist monk I’ve known for sixteen years.

The song’s lyrics about one person helping another stand again, face the world again, climb high enough to glimpse something beyond the everyday – it all resonated with what my friend Jampa has offered me over the years.

So I started making a list:

You strengthened, inspired, encouraged, supported, listened to, appreciated, nurtured, nourished, laughed with, guided, cared about, cared for… “me”

From Receiving to Recognizing
As I sat with this gratitude, something shifted.

I realized my friend doesn’t reserve these gifts just for me -this is how he shows up for everyone. 

And he can offer this because he’s received it from his teachers, his fellow monastics, friends and strangers throughout his life.

No one generates this kind of care from nothing. We pass it along.

The pronouns in my mind shifted from “me” to “us.” From singular to collective. From special exception to universal pattern.

The Mirror Turns
Then came the bigger realization: these aren’t just things I’ve been lucky enough to receive.

They’re ways I can choose to show up for the people in my life.

The list of gratitudes became a practice guide, a reminder of how to be present:
• Can I strengthen a friend who’s struggling to keep going?
• Can I encourage someone who’s doubting themselves?
• Can I actually listen instead of just waiting for my turn to talk?
• Can I appreciate what someone brings rather than focusing on what’s lacking?
• Can I nurture the people I care about with attention and care?
• Can I nourish others – sometimes literally with food, always with presence?
• Can I laugh with someone who needs lightness?
• Can I guide when asked, or simply walk alongside?
• Can I care about people in ways they can actually feel?
• Can I care for the specific needs before me?

The Everyday Sacred
What strikes me is how ordinary these actions are.This isn’t about grand gestures or dramatic interventions. It’s about:
• Texting a friend who’s been quiet lately
• Really looking at someone when they’re talking
• Saying “I see you’re trying really hard” when someone is
• Bringing soup when someone’s sick
• Sharing a funny story to shift the weight of a heavy day
• Showing up when you said you would
• Remembering what matters to someone and asking about it

These small, consistent acts of presence – this is how we strengthen each other for life

The Visual Meditation

The backgrounds I chose for these pages carry meaning:

The prismatic cloud decals photographed on my bedroom window remind me that there are always multiple perspectives, multiple ways of seeing any situation. The same light refracts into countless colors depending on the angle.

The vast Wyoming sky represents spaciousness – that quality of mind that can hold complexity, difficulty, and joy all at once without collapsing.

The richly colored tree through stained glass shows the many-hued ways that wisdom and care express themselves through actual relationships.

What my friend said
When I sent these pages to my friend, he wrote back with his characteristic warmth. 
Among other things, he said: “I really hope that this weekend you find multiple opportunities to employ these wonderful positive ideas in every interaction you have with others.”

Not just appreciate them.
Not just reflect on them.
Employ them.
Practice them.
Live them in actual interactions with actual people.

That’s the invitation.

Sustaining Each Other In any time – but especially in times that feel difficult or disorienting– we need to be offering these qualities to each other. To friends, family, neighbors, colleagues, the person at the grocery store who looks tired.

We need to strengthen each other for the dailiness of life.
We need shared laughter to remember joy.
We need to feel cared about, cared for, appreciated, listened to.

Not because it fixes everything, but because it makes the everything more bearable. More human. More connected.

The Practice
So this weekend, my friend suggested, try employing these ideas in every interaction. Not as performance or obligation, but as practice:

What would it look like to show up as someone who strengthens, encourages, supports, listens, appreciates, nurtures, nourishes, laughs with, guides, cares about, and cares for the people I encounter?

Not perfectly. Not constantly. But consistently enough that the people around me can feel it.

Because that’s how this works:
we receive these gifts,
we recognize them flowing through us from others,
and then we become the ones offering them forward.

The light keeps refracting.
The care keeps flowing.
And somehow,
together, we help each other stand,
face our worlds,
and climb just high enough to glimpse something beyond ourselves.

~~~~~
What started as gratitude for one person
became recognition of how we all sustain each other
through the simple, sacred acts of showing up with care.

~~~~~