I am thankful for the comfort of my bed

A bed is one of the few objects people touch for a third of their life and think about almost never. It's also, historically, extraordinary — a warm dry raised platform in a room with a door that locks.

Most of human history did not sleep like this. Neither will a lot of people tonight.

The point isn't guilt, though. It's that ordinary comfort is invisible by design, and the invisible things make up the largest part of a life.

Tonight, for four seconds as you get in, just notice that it's warm. That's the whole exercise.