Thanksgiving.
I am all for giving thanks.
For family.
For friends.
For food enough.
For a home.
For freedom.
For so much more.
But I am aware that is the easy part.
The first step.
My heart tells me that a life of gratitude is about more than that.
More than about things.
More than about what I have.
I am still learning about what it means to live a life of gratitude.
In all the moments I have.
Sadness
It may be that it is almost the middle of February and the length of winter in Vermont is beginning to push in on me. Maybe it is that, even though the sun is shining today, over the last four months or so there have been more gray days than sunny days. Maybe it is because it is still dark when I get up in the morning and the shades are pulled and the lights are turned on well before we sit down for dinner.
But maybe it is something more.
Maybe it is because at the age I am, this sense of sadness is just a part of life as it is.
Sadness over the loss of friends and loved ones who laughed with me and grew up with me and walked alongside me. Sadness over the all to regular news of cancer or stroke or illness of friends and loved ones who are my age. Sadness as I grapple to come to terms with the reality that life is finite. That my life is finite.
This is not about regrets.
Or a lack of gratitude.
Or some sense of anger or resentment.
This sadness is something different.
Something I have not felt in this way before.
As I live with it and, today try to put words around it
I wonder if maybe sadness is a cousin to gratitude.
I will have to sit with that thought for a while.
In the meantime
I will put on my shoes and walk through town with my dog.
And a bit later, I will meet a friend and we will spend a couple hours skiing together.
And later still, I will sit down to dinner with my wife and before we eat we will reach our hands across the dining room table and say Thank you.
Thank you for the day.
Thank you for each other and for the time and opportunities we have.
Thank you for our family and friends.
Thank you.
And alongside our thank you we will remember.
Hibernation
About my age, he has lived in Vermont his entire life.
His parents owned and operated one of the now defunct Vermont dairy farms.
(At one point in time, there were more cows in Vermont than people.)
He was glad January was over. He said.
It was one of the coldest Januarys he could remember.
Whew! I am glad it was not just me, who has lived here for only three years, who shivered my way through the last month with perpetually cold toes and wearing multiple layers.
Here are my takeaways having lived through this last very cold month.
There was seldom a day when, with coat and hat and mittens and Yaktrax on my shoes, it didn’t feel good to be outside. Walking the dirt roads which wind their way through the hills and mountains around our house. Doing my best to pay attention to the trees and fields and the pattern the wind makes on the snow. Or, with skis on, standing for a moment on the top of the mountain stretching my sight towards the mountains beyond. The cold air. My purposeful deep breaths.
And, while I did get outside to ski and to walk and to shovel the snow
The instinct was to hibernate.
I realized it was harder and took more energy to do….
Well…
To do almost anything.
Which goes against my nature.
It was a lesson in patience.
With myself.
With the weather.
With the winter.
And, in allowing what was and is to be.
And finally, the cold of the last month reminded me again of how fortunate I am.
I have a safe home.
And, plenty of food to eat.
The heat comes on.
The comforter keeps me warm at night.
Many do not have as much.
Some live not far from where I live.
They, too, are a part of the community I call home.
And, it has been cold!
Deep Breathes
I was up early this morning.
Early enough to greet the sun as she began the day.
And to acknowledge the almost full moon as it gave up it radiance to the morning.
I was up early this morning.
Early enough to drink in the morning’s coolness.
And to take deep breathes.
Slowly.
One after another.
Pulling the day
And its promise
Into me.
Filling me.
Finding its way into the fabric of my being.
At least for the moment.
With the hope it won’t be forgotten
Amidst the distractions
And concerns of the day.
I was up early this morning.
Thanksgiving 2019
First, (so you don’t think I am some type of a Thanksgiving Scrooge)…
Happy Thanksgiving!
I hope you have a safe place to be.
And food enough on your table.
And whether you are alone or are gathering with family and friends, that love touches, if not fills, your life. And with all that, you find your own way to say Thank you.
And, while all that is true for me, I have to admit I am always a bit unsettled by Thanksgiving.
For two reasons…
First, maybe it is just the hype which leads up to it, but sometimes it seems we pour all of our thankfulness into one day. Here and done. Feast then famine. Thankfulness then back to normal which is more about what is mine and what I deserve rather than a deep and abiding sense of gratitude. If we celebrate Thanksgiving correctly we are good for another year.
Second, we make Thanksgiving and giving thanks about the blessings in our lives. And, by blessings we mean things. If we have a lot of things we are blessed. Food. Home. Family. Friends. Bank account. Options. Opportunities. If we have good china and an over abundance of food, we are blessed. If we have a home and family we are blessed. And because of that we should give thanks. Gratitude becomes something of a requirement. If all that is true, then the more you have the more grateful you are? And, the less you have the less grateful you are? I am not sure that is how it works. Or, is supposed to work. I am not wise enough to know, but my sense is that a gratitude which transforms and sustains our lives is rooted in something deeper and more important, and that the way we position and celebrate Thanksgiving distracts us from that more important search.
But, maybe I have it all wrong.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Somewhere someone…
If you are not ___________ (fill in the blank) you are not paying attention.
Frustrated.
Angry.
Disheartened.
Pissed.
Exasperated.
Outraged.
Infuriated.
Worn out.
Used up.
Exhausted.
All that stuff out there is all those things.
At least to me.
And, all that stuff out there matters.
And makes a difference.
And demands our attention even if and when we are all of the above.
But today, I also offer this reminder.
Somewhere someone provided food for someone who was hungry.
Somewhere someone went the extra mile to help a stranger.
Somewhere someone called on someone who was sick.
Or alone.
Or afraid.
Or forgotten.
Somewhere someone spent the day helping to make a home safer.
Somewhere someone stopped what they were doing to listen.
Somewhere someone looked another person in the eye.
Somewhere someone said Thank you and meant it.
Somewhere someone promised to love another.
Somewhere someone rocked a baby who was crying.
Somewhere someone read a book to a child.
Somewhere someone took a step towards their dream.
Somewhere someone got back up off the ground.
Somewhere someone spoke up for what is right.
Somewhere someone stood up for what is right.
Somewhere someone broke their silence.
Somewhere someone overcame their fear.
Somewhere someone….
Maybe it was you.
And that matters.
And makes a difference.
And world of difference.
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