Tag: Thanksgiving

Old Words, new understanding

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In my last post I talked a little bit about prayer, and what many historically call the “Lord’s prayer” (in Christian tradition).  My thoughts were generated by the “group recitation” of those words at the funeral of Queen Elizabeth 2; the crowd quietly repeating them raised a question in my mind as to how much they really had thought about their meaning – and then, considering what they mean to me. I decided it was time to share about that here, and it leaves me feeling – vulnerable, inadequate and nonqualified! As I approach 65, with a lot of life changes in my last few years and more than one reminder recently that life is unpredictable, I am more aware than ever that we can never know the answers to many questions that individuals and societies have asked throughout history.  But being raised in what, back in the 60’s, in a “conservative” church, the lessons of Sunday school, and later Bible studies, continue to resonate in my memory and to color much of how I see our world, and my life, and our place in it.  They are a part of my tapestry of life, and those colors still are vibrant, and the harmonies still echo. 

I don’t know how to write about spiritual matters; I don’t have a theological background.  I would never pretend to be certain about anything, or to try to defend my own precariously balanced beliefs through debate; there are people I love in my life who think and feel very differently on many issues, and I treasure them and our relationships much more than “being right”. Perhaps that guiding principle is one we need to seek more in this time of divide, and yet … I feel like somehow, sharing my reflections on what is, for many “people of faith” who follow Christian tenets, is foundational scripture … is worth expressing.  So … this is very much just “me”, ahead.  Just what comes into my heart when there is quiet, or when I try to find some sense of order and hope in all the jumble of a life that seems to be constantly shifting.  Lately, that is happening more than I would like.

A point of reference – I use the word “God”, and the “He/His” pronouns, primarily because that is what I was raised with – but I realize there are many words, many names and that gender is just another frame of reference with many cultural implications.  I would hope that the reader would be kind and overlook differences they may have with this approach, because ultimately, it’s not those words are not what we should be focused on but, individually or together, seeking truths our hearts can acknowledge. Truths that lead to a better life for us, and for those we love. My reflections will be segmented in the way that makes sense to me; I see four major components to the prayer – Identity; relationship; entreaty; and praise. 

“Our father, who art in heaven; hallowed be thy name.  Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven”. 

The prayer begins not with focusing on what we want, but a recognition, a statement of overriding truth – that there is a Creator, and that our relationship with Him is likened to a parent and child – one based in love. These few words comprise a foundational acknowledgement that there is something greater than my understanding, known by many names, that brought me and all of us into being.  Admitting this includes turning to that source of life with reverence, and in worship. Following this statement of faith, is another acknowledgement – that seeking His kingdom is meant to be a focus in our life – but what is the Kingdom of God? So many have claimed that their vision of the “kingdom of God” justifies war, hatred, exclusion – but if we just look at this as a whole, I see a different perspective. The “kingdom” of God on this earth is not one made of buildings, or systems, or churches or corporations or cults; it is our spirits, which we choose to surrender, ongoing, as we seek our way through life. To let that kingdom “come”, to have His “will be done”, is each of us making a choice – to give that loving source of life our acceptance, our broken, tender and lost little hearts, as best we can, and sharing it with others while we are able. To give God, as we understand God, that authority in our life daily, is the closest to heaven on earth that we can, for now, experience and offer one another.  For His kingdom on earth to be realized, His will to be accomplished, requires our choice to be His agents; to give Him our hearts, and to let them be used as channels of that greater Life.  A firm declaration of God’s nature, and our place in His kingdom.

Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors

After this statement, an acknowledgment of God’s identity, comes an admission, an acceptance of our relationship to Him.   First – we will always be dependent on our Creator for our needs.  We are not and never were in control; we can only work towards what we are able but there will always be a gap between our hopes and our realities, and it is to God we must turn, in faith, to bridge that gap. It is a daily hunger, it is a daily need, it is a daily journey, one step at a time. It is a willingness to say, yes, this is my way of life; in a culture that elevates knowledge and certainty and self-sufficiency, this is a daring refutation, a defiant reshaping of our thinking and expectations – that our relationship with our Creator is fundamentally walking in trust without answers and dependence instead of strength.  As to how we relate to those who enter our lives in many ways – we must recognize and live out the truth that our relationship with others requires forgiveness, from us, and to us.  We need one another, and only with forgiveness can we create the world we long for; only by acknowledging our imperfect, often failing, humanity, can we turn to one another and together build anew.  Receiving forgiveness, in wholeness, requires our sharing it freely as well; our standing in love and trust with that source of life, cannot be complete without offering it to one another. Can there be a greater challenge to our ego than to admit I have failed, and to accept that others have failed me?  It is the deepest forgiveness that comes at the highest price, but that we yearn for. In two simple phrases, filled with powerful truths, we are challenged to live in dependence and trust towards a Creator beyond our fully knowing – and to give others forgiveness without demanding more, in order to know that grace ourselves fully.

And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil.

Finally, after acknowledging, confessing truths that may not fit what we were taught, or represent the dreams and wishes we desire – it is time to ask. I like the word “entreaty”; it is defined as an earnest and humble request. It’s more than a hope, or a wish; it is a plea, one that acknowledges we need help. How odd that we should have to ask God to NOT lead us into temptations; after all the shaming and lecturing and moralizing about our evil natures, for centuries this phrases has challenged our understanding.  Funny, in a way, because when you sit down and go honestly through most of the narrative stories in what is called our Bible, there are so many instances of God defying expectation, seemingly even delighting is disappointing hopes, in refusing to be predictable and yet, demanding faith.  Why on earth would we need to ask God to not lead us into temptation?  I cannot say with certainty, and apparently neither can the recent announcement by the Pope that this should be rephrased (you can find more about this here).  But experts in those ancient texts are adamant that this is exactly what it says – please, God, don’t tempt me.  Perhaps the best I can take from this is some comfort in knowing, as it says elsewhere in scripture, that temptation is (gasp) normal; failure to be perfect is pretty much standard (No!); that my weakness is a fact of life that God’s love is big enough to overlook. Perhaps it somehow makes a difference as we struggle with our weaknesses to acknowledge that daily, to admit I need help. As far as deliverance from evil – historically, evil has done pretty well on this planet, and again sometimes I have to admit I am a part of that – with anger, with selfishness, with bitterness. I find myself asking – could it be that this plea for “deliverance” is not one of “save me from someone else’s evil towards me”, but … “free me from that within me that seeks to commit evil, and help me to be a greater agent of Your love despite my imperfect heart”?  In short – these few, mysterious words acknowledge that I need help to find my way – I need light in the darkness.  Right now, that seems truer than ever, for us all.  We seek that light in many different ways, but there is one ultimate source….

For Thine is the Kingdom, and the Glory, and the Power, Forever – Amen. 

And so we close with a final, full statement of the ultimate authority and power of our Creator, as best we can know Him and His will. Apparently, this is considered by some to be “added on” doxology.  Perhaps so!  Perhaps someone who thought they were doing good felt it added an exclamation point of sorts for dramatic effect.  It sure makes for a crescendo in that closing hymn arrangement!  I’ll never know – but it speaks to me.  It is a towering, overriding exclamation of faith – one that says let go of trying to have it all, because He already does.  He holds the keys to the kingdom, He has the answers.  Sure, for some, that can be seen as an easy “cop out” – just give up.  But I see it as an act of worship and faith – acknowledging that whatever greater Power is out there, by whatever name we might best understand it, endures, and that a purpose which we may never know is working in us, through us, loving us and one another beyond.   All the things that I often am drawn to strive for, to worry about, to bicker over, fade away when bathed in the brilliant light I just need to stop and look up to realize surrounds it, and us, all.  This final statement is one of undiluted, unlimited, and honest praise.   

One final observation, for now …. As I pointed out, there is really only one “ask” in this prayer. It’s not about wish fulfillment or the kindly old grandpa in the stars granting requests of the pious. Of course, there are many times in Christian scripture where people of faith asked for more specific needs, but … perhaps prayer isn’t really about asking for something as much as it is trying to connect with that source which is itself, the only answer we really long for? And … did you notice that, outside of the references to God, the Divine, the Creator – everything else isn’t “me”, it isn’t “I” – but us. OUR father; give US this day OUR daily bread; forgive US; WE forgive OTHERS. Prayer is as much of an acknowledgement that we exist together in community, we seek answers together, we struggle together – not alone. Again, we need one another.

Friends, remember this – faith only really matters when you have doubts without “proof”, questions without certainly. There are, as with any matter of faith, countless perspectives on whether the individual we call Jesus said these words, or which words, or to whom and when. All valid questions, that cannot be answered with factual documentation, really; out of the four “gospels” which have different histories and inconsistencies of many events of Christ, only two have the prayer, one at the crowds attending the “Sermon on the Mount” and another at a gathering of Christ with only his disciples. The two have differing phrases, the “original Greek” texts are inconsistent (and were themselves hardly contemporary), the Catholics and Protestants of course have their own versions, and of course there are numerous translations of the Bible. Talk about a multiverse, Marvel does not have the only claim to different representations of reality!  Here is a link to a 1988 article about doubts as to veracity of just about everything I just commented on – https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1988-10-18-mn-4561-story.html

For your reference and perhaps edification, or to raise even more questions that evade simple answers, I am providing links to two resources – first, a “comparative” presentation of different Bible “translations” of these passages – you can download the pdf here …. https://wartburgproject.org/mdocs-posts/the-lords-prayer-in-five-versions/

And, a fascinating history of the “evolution” of translations over the centuries … food for thought, or perhaps evidence that there is ultimately no final “right” answers … https://www.csdirectory.com/biblestudy/lords-prayer.pdf

For now – as I write, tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Just as we sometimes rush through a day that, at least in someone’s original intent, was to take time to remember our blessings – setting that aside to check the upcoming sales, and plan for social events – it is far too easy to avoid thinking about issues that raise hard questions; disappointments and bitterness with teachings that didn’t seem to fit reality; pain from the loss of love that we had held dear, and regrets for choices that we thought would make dreams come true.  It is hard to be thankful when our challenges engulf us.  Perhaps, it is now, we need to pray the most.  I hope my simple reflections perhaps raise questions, even tough ones, that ultimately you can choose to face and work through – or, to ignore. Choices are what create our own, ultimately personal, truths – our lives are our prayers, lived out, shared, or hoarded and kept shut away. Ultimately prayer has the power to change our hearts, and through us, to give hope and love to others seeking the same.

I will write more soon about my own battles with prayer, with faith; my own unanswered cries and beyond that, my choices to continue to shape and define me. Until then …. thank you for sitting a while with me, wherever, whenever you are; I hope you never give up seeking answers, and finding those that help you share just a little bit more of whatever light you find. I’ll be looking alongside you.

Where gratitude leads us

A lovely thought from a treasured vintage postcard, gifted by a good friend

In a little less than a week, many in America, and others around the world, will celebrate by giving thanks.  You probably have your traditions – perhaps they include special foods, or sports – perhaps online shopping, or a hike, far removed from the daily routine.  As we approach that day, I have been thinking about the role of thanks not only in that upcoming day, but every day – and what I hope to gain by being a better practitioner of gratitude.  Perhaps you, too, have reflected upon Thanksgiving a bit more this year, after all the hurdles of recent times.  There have been years for me where I questioned what it was I was supposed to be thankful for; in recent days, the gatherings of my past seem to be offering a lesson for the future; I cannot quite make it out, but perhaps together we can find some meaning to share. 

The Norman Rockwell classic Thanksgiving dinner art – and a welcome reframing for today’s families

I cannot tell you my first memory of Thanksgiving, as a family gathering.  Some do have those “Norman Rockwell” images and memories; there were years that my family, in various configurations, tried to achieve that.   Although the years of my parents being together were few, I am certain they tried to give my brother and I the “turkey and fixings and pumpkin pie” kind of meal. But, probably not with family, because in those years we were together, we lived far from any close relatives.  I do, however, remember – and had to confirm with my older brother, whose recollections are a little clearer – after my parents separated, my father picking us up and driving us to his workplace for a dinner – at the Chino “Men’s rehabilitative state institute”, or, state prison, simply put.  I remember driving through high, barbed wire topped automatic fences and eating in a large community room (with inmates and guards and families)  – I think it was all he could afford, in those early years of separation and divorce.  It wasn’t “pretty” or picture perfect – but he wanted to spend that meal with us, and that is what I choose to remember, now. 

My Mom’s health issues were many, and she was not a cook (and neither am I!) But, when I was a little older, Dad remarried – a local elementary school teacher, single and older, who loved cooking (and was darn good at it!) – who prepared everything and more for Thanksgiving and just about any occasion. In time, their son was born – I was in junior high – and on occasion, a cousin or other family member might join as well. Years later, of course, both my brothers married, and had children, who joined the tradition now and then.  My stepmother (who, confusingly at times, had the same first name as my Mom, creating two women with the same name in our not so large back then city) was always kind to prepare a plate for me to take home to my Mom.  The other part of that tradition I remember – not so fondly – was the focus on hours and hours of football games.   They seemed utterly boring and pointless to me. 

In my college years, I would come home for Thanksgiving from the dorms; as I began my professional life, I often returned to those family gatherings, until a period of several years, after I moved away from my roots, when my own personal struggles led to more isolation and searching for understanding.  I would sometimes spend the holidays alone, or going to see movies, or escaping for a “feast” to the “happiest place on earth” – Disneyland – where the music and energy would provide respite, briefly, from my inner uncertainties.  I had long since stopped going to church – the gulf in my spirit between what I felt and what I had been taught was too wide to ignore.  But, being raised as a “good church boy”, I often brought to mind the hymn that often had been sung in my childhood services – replaced later at more contemporary evangelical gatherings by “praise singers” – ever constant reminders that we “should” be thankful for our many blessings. 

The song that I associate with giving thanks, with lyrics – sung now for 5 centuries, in various forms

As a history buff, I’ve come to realize, perhaps by coincidence, how the origins of the celebration crisscrossed my journeys. More than 30 years ago, on my solo and only drive through parts of American history on the east coast, I visited the location of what is now recognized as the first Thanksgiving by colonists – in the Jamestown settlement of Virginia.  And nearly two decades later, I had the opportunity, courtesy of a friend, to visit Provincetown, Massachusetts – the first landing on what became American soil by the pilgrims, seeking refuge from religious oppression.  Some now see these moments in human history primarily as infringement on indigenous peoples; certainly, their lives and world were forever altered by these events.  The picture books I loved in my childhood and youth, and stories of heroes, are seen differently now by many.  But as I reflect on the essence of what Thanksgiving means to me, if not to all – I remember those moments on my own journey to new life; recognizing that there were many sacrifices made for what we now enjoy.   And realizing that I was fortunate, indeed, to never know true hunger. 

The First Thanksgiving Took Place in Virginia, not Massachusetts

For all of us, the years of family gatherings can never last forever; my Mom spent her final 7 Thanksgivings in a care facility a short drive from our old home, where she would sit in her wheelchair sometimes outside in the sun, and the occasional visit from my brother’s family was a welcome distraction.  It was during those years, cleaning her home through the paraphernalia accumulated over decades, I started my own discovery of family history through the letters, photos and mementos she had stored in forgotten drawers of her home of 40 years; my digging led to new connections, and renewed family sharing with many cousins. I remember another holiday during that period where I had asked my Dad if he was open to having me drive his cousin Bill, now a widowed gay retired hairdresser living in a trailer park in the desert, back to Corona for Thanksgiving.  Dad was not open to that – after 30 or more years, he held on to his reasons for separation, and they were not to see one another again. For her final Thanksgiving in 2005, facing treatments for pancreatic cancer, my stepmother did not prepare her traditional feast; I drove her and my Dad to a Marie Callender’s for Thanksgiving buffet.  She passed that winter; my Mom followed in spring 2006, and Cousin Bill in fall 2006. Dad outlived them all – he had his final Thanksgiving while living in a care facility near my younger brother, and while at a family gathering that day with both my brother’s families, he asked me to drive him back to the facility before we ate dinner together.  That was the last time we were under one roof before his passing the following spring of 2007.  

Those next few Thanksgivings felt very empty.  It was a season – several seasons, cumulative, folding upon one another like a line of dominoes – of grief, and memory, and healing.  In time, the process of working through the old, and accepting the new, opened doors in my own life to move ahead; the growth and understanding I came to embrace, through many lonely holidays, brought me to a very different – and better – place, in time. There have been many gatherings with family since then – at Thanksgiving, and more – and with friends, old and new, including one memorable Thanksgiving feast with something like 20 hungry gay men crammed into a small San Francisco home, wolfing down gourmet dishes.   Like most of you reading this today, I spent Thanksgiving 2020 eating at home – happily no longer alone, but with my husband, something I never envisioned a decade before.  This year, since neither of us fits the mold of being great cooks, we are looking forward to a sumptuous buffet at a restaurant, with masks suitably lowered but readily at hand. 

Hey, Thanksgiving is for everyone – even the Muppets and Charlie Brown!

All of these prior Thanksgivings are swirling in my memory, and those who prepared the food, and who sat with us, although not present still are nevertheless still at our table, in my heart. I will be surrounded by memories as we go through our day – bravely enduring the Macy’s “parade” from the comfort of our den, with calls to and from family and friends, and Facebook posts, and a feast where our regrets begin probably before we put down the fork and put on our masks.  I can assure you, however – NO FOOTBALL!  But there is a deeper lesson to be learned and shared, even if we cannot – or choose not – to be “together” on that day; a lesson of what I am coming to think of as the destination we seek to reach on a road paved with gratitude.  Where does our gratitude lead us?

I am coming to understand that the “injunctions” I heard from the church school of my childhood, and the pulpit of my later years, about giving thanks, and prayers, and acknowledging our blessings – whatever your own faith or views may be – have a greater end and purpose than just rote performance.  When I reflect on the many graces and gifts that have come into my life from all sorts of people, not always in moments that traditionally might have been classified as “holy” or spiritual – I am humbled.  I begin to see things differently –  that the practice, consistently, of giving thanks opens my heart and my awareness to a greater peace and a living hope.  Not born from my intellect, but from a connection outside my own being. 

For me – giving thanks broadens my perspective in a way that I find difficult to describe, but feel deeply. Acknowledging that I have been given so many good things in life helps me to accept that I can never have all the answers, never control all the outcomes, and – at least on this earth – never understand the many “whys” that echo in my soul.  It reminds me of my limits, certainly – but also helps me see the many miracles, dare I say, that have visited my life – and those of my family, now and in the past.  That is one of the treasures of discovering ancestry – realizing the struggles and sacrifices, joys and daring choices that my forebears took to survive and build and create, which they gave me.  Childless, I can only look on my family and friends and imagine the bond that they share with the next generations, and realize that legacy is priceless, and I try in my small way to add to it with love and encouragement.   Our love is woven by unseen hands into something that lasts.

The practice, the habit, the discipline of giving thanks consciously leads to many outcomes, and the discovery and awareness of deeper truths than just what gifts I have received. It leads to humility and acceptance of my own limits, and others; to a peace and faith that the things I cannot know or see will be brought together for good, in time; and to an empathy and compassion for the lives I encounter once, or often along the way – wandering, as I do, on a path that none of us fully comprehend. Developing slowly, with effort, an “attitude of gratitude” opens my heart to knowing – I have been loved, I am loved, and those around me are loved and this moment, this day – whether filled with cooking meals or watching football or practicing music or sitting by the bedside of someone otherwise alone, and wondering what lies ahead – each moment is one that I can give love.  Not answers – just love.  A touch, a word, a smile, in between all the traffic jams and gas lines and news of conflict and ongoing threats that barrage our awareness and try to drown out the silent, patient hope. 

Every step we take, as we build our path moment by moment, matters.

Whether your own life has brought you to a place where you believe there is a force out there, larger than us, who listens – or whether it is enough to realize that the power of community caring can lift us all to a better place, regardless – Thanksgiving is a day of hope, and realization, as much as celebration and remembrance. If you are with family – perhaps for the first time in a while – this could be a time for you to share and preserve your memories, histories, and lessons.  They are worth celebrating, and sharing, for those who will walk past our days here.  If you are alone, as I was for many years, this could be a chance to reach out to another and say, simply, I appreciate you, your caring for me, and I care about you too.  What a joy it can be to find an opportunity to say that, in a brief moment, whether to a loved one or a stranger, and know it may mean the world to them, too.

My distant cousin, Susan Applegate, is an artist in rural Oregon, where our Applegate western pioneer roots were first established.  Years ago, she did a painting of the “Old House” – indeed, the oldest house in original family hands, in Yoncalla – the home of my great great great grandfather, Charles and his wife Melinda.  Her art showed multiple generations of family – dozens, over the many decades of life there – gathered around the fireplace, celebrating across the bonds of time.  That thought – of our timeless connections, even among strangers – resonates with me as the nights start earlier and the leaves fall. Next week, I will be here in SF with Bob, feasting (and regretting) – but I will also be in that quiet now ancient home in Yoncalla, and in Denver with my grandparents I never knew, then in Corona with my parents, and also at that men’s prison in Chino, and smiling with my cousin Bill alone in Palm Springs; knowing again, somehow, all the moments of time, and life, and the echoes of their souls, laughter and love.

My times of giving thanks are not quite this photogenic, but they feel like it sometimes!

I invite you to join me on the path to gratitude and more; to give thanks tomorrow, and the day after – forgetting on occasion, I am sure, but returning again – in the morning quiet.  Finding peace in accepting that as there have been joys and disappointments through every year of life, more lie ahead – but we will never be truly without hope, and without much for which to be grateful.  And we will be reminded that those gifts have come, to know that greater love – from all the sources and all the hearts – is flowing not just to us in those moments of reflection, but through each of us, to others, like a timeless river of life.  

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No thanks – but thanks – in 2020

Yes, it’s been nearly half a month since Thanksgiving, I know! Why am I so “late” in writing?  Well, I prefer to think that I needed to get to the right place and time to express something worth offering to you – and, perhaps, to discover for myself.  As I go through my reflective/creative process for sharing here, which (like me) is evolving, I often achieve some realizations, awareness, about the issues that are “troubling the waters” of my soul.  There seems to be more troubling of the water, these days.  Some of my friends might be surprised at how much I struggle, daily, and have for many years, with inner conflicts, doubts, depression and uncertainty.  Whether online – here, Facebook – or in person (or zoom!), it’s not that the words I share, or the photos, are not from my heart – they are deeply sincere – but my day to day existence does not always match my aspirations.  

But I have been thinking about thankfulness, gratitude, where it fits in my life – how easy it is to set aside or pretend and just go through the motions.   In reality, choosing to be and express thankfulness is HARD WORK! But also, a very powerful, even life changing force. At last, for now, here are my own small reconsiderations, and reflections on that subject. Or, as an alternate title – “A heaping plate of regrets and a side of disappointment does not make for a pleasant dinner”.

This is not the Thanksgiving you want to have … but it would be memorable!

Even though I am sure anyone reading this has enough weighing on their hearts and is not seeking to focus on my challenges, I am convinced anything I have of value to share are the lessons for which I paid dearly, whether in blood, sweat or tears – that our mistakes offer more room for growth to lead to hopefully our triumphs.  And I know others are like me – struggling to focus on having a positive attitude, expectations and hopes after so many months of, well, everything.  But in that struggle, somehow, the beacon of grabbing onto gratitude in the midst of disappointment still calls out to me. 

I wonder, in my early morning sleep deprived ruminations, what role does the giving of thanks play in our lives today?  What meaning does it have?  If we do not personally believe in what is generically termed a “higher power”, however we frame or conceptualize that – does giving thanks and prayer have any substantive value in our lives?  Are we just begging for help out of desperation, hoping there is someone, something “out there” that will “deliver us from evil”,  eliminate COVID, wipe out our political enemies who so clearly wrong about whatever we are what so clearly right on, and bring back everything we loved about our lives while somehow vanishing the problematic social, economic and other nasty realities we just want to exclude from our awareness?  Or do we just want our “old lives” back – and in the case of far too many, the lives of our loved ones taken from us, struggling to reconcile our grief with our faith. 

Oh, sure, I can put on the “attitude of gratitude” for a while, to fool myself, or maybe appear to for others. It is so very, very easy to mouth the platitudes that I was taught from an early age, whether they be prayers, or songs, or sayings – being thankful for family, food, shelter.  I am very aware that in the larger reality of population I am among the most fortunate of humans, in terms of basic needs, care, and more.  But just saying words is not enough – it is not from the heart.  Perhaps anger and frustration from the heart are more powerful, more real than the practiced pleasant statements that we feel we are expected to include in our traditional gatherings.  Soaking our hearts daily in anger and frustration is like a poison that seeps into every aspect of life.   Our hearts began to be choked into silence by the thorns of despair. 

I have felt like this too much lately … but as I am discovering, there is another way.

So if I was to describe my Thanksgiving – we (my husband and I, and our two cats) followed our local guidelines, and spent the day without in person contact with family or friends, with a low key meal (we are not the chefs that some of our friends exemplify), zooming instead, and enjoying some entertainment.  In many ways, it was a lovely day.  But underneath the traditions, I am dealing with the same frustrations, anger, fears and uncertainties that swirl around us all, daily.   And in that, in the quiet moments when my heart puts all the chaos briefly on pause, somehow, the thought of gratitude keeps bubbling up, saying – “remember me”.  

And I have been trying to do just that.  To remember what it is like to be truly grateful; to think about what that means, when there is so much going on that seems to be coming from someone else’s nightmare, day after day after day.  I try to turn off the news but find myself obsessively checking websites for the latest edict, the latest data, and the latest projections of doom and death.   I juggle that with planning when to go to the store, when to manage our limited time outside the house, and, oh yes, Christmas!  Because I am not going to lose Christmas, dammit! (Try to picture me saying that with a smile, at least in part!) 

2020 has been the year of unwanted presents – but also unexpected gifts

Yet I sense that the way ahead – whether it is “through”, or “out of”, this current state of frustration is not changing the situation – not getting the reality I want – but accepting, embracing the reality I have.  It’s sort of like reaching for something but you can’t because you are too burdened with what you are throttling, trying to choke the life out of, or dragging along with you – you haven’t released it.  If this sounds similar to an entry a few months ago – you are probably right.  I may be circling the same water because I never stopped to taste it.  

I was raised in the traditional Christian church of the 60’s. I didn’t stay in it; I questioned what I was taught versus what I could see in people’s lives; I couldn’t conform to what I felt was expected of me. I don’t have a background in world religions, but I sense that whatever truths about human nature, the way we are built, the way we learn and grow, are central to many faiths.  After all, in many ways, we are a single race, mixed in innumerous cultures and subcultures, families, neighborhoods, classes.  But all of us, in some way, are trying to reach for something we sense but cannot name.   The answers may be unknowable, for us, today.  But the broader truth may be that we must embrace what we have now, make peace with it, yes, even love it and give thanks for it, to be free to move on. 

It’s as though we are trapped in a room and cannot see the door because we are so desperately trying to break through the walls. Think of yourself as a battery – you have energy stored in you; it goes away; but it can also be replenished.  That energy has a focus, where you are centralizing your attention.  If it is on all the things you are frustrated with, it goes into that and produces – probably next to nothing, other than perhaps more frustration for you and those in your life.  Acknowledging our inability to change something is not what my culture taught me. 

Yet, however contradictory it may seem, I sense that it is in a deeper, daily acceptance of our current reality – through giving thanks, gratitude, whatever you want to call it (and to whomever or whatever you wish to express it) – which allows us to eventually be freed from the expectations, demands, fantasies and dreams that we cannot achieve. They have been so deeply woven into our focus, priorities and purpose that they become a cocoon, eve a prison perhaps.  Focusing on our disappointment prevents us from seeing that the path we wanted to take is not the path before us.   We have fixated on the walls of our cell that we want to escape so firmly that we are blind to the doorways which were there all along. 

If the way ahead is not apparent, we must be open to the unexpected and undiscovered

To put it another way – Accepting, truly and completely making peace with the reality we would like to change (and our expectation that we cannot be otherwise whole) allows us to see choices we that were once invisible.  We cannot fully see the possible while we cling to the wished for or expected.  Creating an equilibrium of peace in our current state opens our eyes, and hearts, to new possibilities. 

I am sure those familiar with the history of philosophy can identify the origins of just about any perspective we might take today – I don’t pretend to know those facts.  I just am trying to listen to my heart, and to something outside of myself speaking to me there.  Surely many are familiar with the 12 step programs, initially formalized with AA, and the Serenity prayer in all it’s iterations – “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference”.   I have learned that we do not always share the same challenges, or purpose, or destiny, or understanding – and we cannot let someone else tell us what ours must be.  We have to find our own way, as individuals, and yet – together.  But we are all facing a lot of what we cannot change today, and we all need serenity, equilibrium – stilling the waters of our souls. 

If you google “gratitude quotes” you’ll find an endless listing of helpful websites.  Two rang true with me today, as I work to bring these thoughts to a close.  First, Charles Dickens, whose own life was far from problem free (here is an excellent profile), but whose words still bring hope to readers around the globe in so many cultures – 

And, author Melody Beattie, whose work is not familiar to me but who has written on addiction related issues and provided helpful insights to many – there is no “one size fits all”, of course – 

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. It turns problems into gifts, failures into successes, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. It can turn an existence into a real life, and disconnected situations into important and beneficial lessons. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.

Melody Beattie (follow this link for more) on gratitude
In the process of trying to understand what I cannot know … I discover, anew

Thanks for sitting with me for a while, and for reading my little thoughts.  I hope something here may ring true for you – give you some “food for thought” as a post-Thanksgiving feast for the soul (well, maybe a snack, then).  As challenging as times are, the process of focusing on gratitude gives me hope – and that’s something we all need to find, and share, everyday more than ever.  

Until next time – be safe, and find hope – for yourself, and to share. It’s out there!

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