On Thanksgiving Day most of us will eat too much. Many will watch football games. Some will retrieve playing cards from the closet, or a worn mah jong table. If we’re lucky we’ll be among friends and family, basking in the comforting warmth of people who know us well and love us anyway.
Few of us, though, will use the day off from work and routine to reflect on our bountiful gifts. Ours is a culture whose commerce is driven by doubt, by the niggling suspicion that we don’t have enough — that there’s always something more or better to acquire. When you’re constantly seeking caulking to plug the lacunae in your life, you don’t notice the goodness of the roof over your head, only the pockmarks in the walls.
Given the brutality and sorrow extant in the world, the hunger and suffering, the pain and hopelessness, perhaps those of us lucky enough to be residents of the most affluent country in the history of civilization should spend this Thanksgiving actually giving thanks (in between turkey and football.)
I am thankful for good health, the greatest gift.
I’m thankful for my family and my friends.
I’m thankful for love, the sweet affection I give and get.
I’m thankful to be able to do things I enjoy.
I’m thankful for my inspiring colleagues.
I’m thankful to be an American.
I’m thankful to be alive, to understand how little I know, to learn a fraction of all this existence has to teach. I’m thankful to be alive, to experience this adventure of life on Earth, to be a human being. I’m thankful to be alive, to think, to feel, to have all my senses intact, to be able to see and hear and smell and feel and taste the magic of the awe-inspiring world we inhabit.
I am truly blessed.
Happy Thanksgiving Day!