It's cold and gray outside the window--my favorite Thanksgiving weather. Seriously. Just as gray skies make Fall leaves more intense, the chilled slate day enhances the golden warmth inside. Cozy in fleece and my red alpaca socks, sipping my own version of a coffee-chocolate latte, watching the dogs sleeping in flickering firelight and being visited by assorted cats as I write, the dark day and occasional snowflake make me smile and feel even more grateful for the socks and coffee and critters and Linda (who is working on bee classes in the office) and the rattle-squeal of the pellet stove and abundant dinner we'll eat in a few hours.
Those who know me well have listened to me rant about Thanksgiving over the years. Let's ask the Native Americans fighting to protect Standing Rock how they feel about this day. And I've self-righteously declared many times that "if you need a special day to give thanks, you're just doing it wrong." This has always been followed with a smug "I give thanks many times a day, and fall asleep saying thank you." And while there's been truth under the mounds of self-congratulation, I've dropped the ball lately.
Like so many, I've been raging and despairing, cursing and mourning since about 2:00 am November 9th. I wake up in the morning, feed the dogs, pour my coffee and then BAM...it hits like a punch to the gut. Or I'll be at work, helping someone and...remember. I'll remember that the person I'm helping might be one of 'them', a person who would gleefully denounce my marriage to Linda, believes Muslims should be banned from the country, keeps a white sheet (literally or figuratively) behind his/her driver's seat, and is all for building a 2000 mile wall--after deporting everyone imaginable first. Oh, I'm lucky...in reality the majority of people I encounter at work are not 'them'. But since November 9th, there's always an 'us' and 'them' in my mind.
Look, I knew racism was horrifically present, and on the rise, but living and working where I do, it was a thing on the news...turn off the news, turn off the reality. But now there's no denying the molten lava river of hatred coursing through this country. And yeah, I know there are those who swear up and down they aren't "like that"; they voted for trump because of the economy. Well, to them I say: you're worried about the economy but thought a guy who has filed for bankruptcy six times, stiffs his contractors, doesn't always pay his bills, and won't release his tax returns is the guy to fix it? I suggest that next time you just go stuff your money under your mattress and stay away from the polls.
Okay, I'll stop now...the above illustrates that of late, between the post-election anger, depression & malaise, as well as feeling like I'm always scrambling to catch up to one project or another (home and work) three important things have fallen by the wayside: time spent outside just being, writing--anything including the novel that's been begging for my attention and is getting ready to pack its bags and move on, and...gratitude. I just stopped saying --and more importantly, FEELING-- thank you.
So this morning I hied myself off to my local walking spot. I wandered, meandered, took a few photos, watched a hunch-shouldered heron on a tree branch and the tide coming in, listened to the music of birds chittering and dry leaves falling, breathed, tried to think less and feel more. And as I scuffed through dead leaves and pine needles, there they were: GRATITUDE--for the cold, fresh air, silence, and beauty...and then for so much else; HOPE--in the knowledge that for everyone who hates there are those who care, that millions of us doing what we can however small to turn this around, that we have seen the abyss and enough of us are willing to each do some thing to pull all of us away from the edge; and JOY--because of hope and gratitude and countless blessings and late Autumn walks in the woods and snowy mountains....and, and, and......
Today, I'm grateful there is a day for giving thanks, because I needed to be reminded. I'm grateful for the total stranger, the only other person sharing the sanctuary with me this morning, an older man probably close to 70, who quietly made his way through the trails removing fallen branches from the paths. We ended up walking out side-by-side awhile, and he told me about his 12 year old grandson who lives with him now because the man's son is in prison and the boy's mother overdosed this summer. I'm grateful that 12 year old has a grandfather who loves him and clears fallen branches from woodland trails. I'm thankful for this 400+ acre marshy oasis in the heart of a village. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for this cozy little house and this warm room looking out on a cold gray day; for my sons who fought so hard in this election and will do it all over again in two years and for those same sons who make me laugh and remind me how big love can be; for the fine and intelligent and warm, funny & wise womyn in their lives who have become loving partners to them; for my sister from whom I learn often and well; for fuzzy loving cats and big-eyed dogs and silly chickens; for friends who keep me honest and laughing; for the friend I've known over 40 years; for the friend from high school who found me on facebook a couple of years ago and thanked me for being kind to him decades ago and reminds me by his generous spirit that some of my stereotypes are just plain wrong; for things that grow; for words that form themselves into sentences and poems and stories; for the peace of darkness falling and promise of the sun rising; for coffee; for the dinner we'll soon eat; for dreams that keep me going when I don't want to do one more storytime or drive 40 minutes to a job working for someone else even one more time; for snow falling and sunsets blazing; for waking up today and knowing I'll fall asleep tonight curled up with the womon who is my heart and home...and...and...and...
And I'm thankful for bittersweet (even if it is an invasive species).
And finally (but not really because I can go on and on), I'm grateful for...you.
Happy thanks giving.
And finally (but not really because I can go on and on), I'm grateful for...you.
Happy thanks giving.