Thanksgiving

by

Pepper L. Bauer

It’s happened. You’ve hit the wall. To put it impolitely, you’re absolutely certain your life is circling the bowl, and about to be flushed. The holidays are coming, you can’t think of anything to be thankful for, and the prospect of Christmas just makes you tired. You are so busy feeling sorry for yourself; you don’t have the time, or energy to care about anyone else’s problems. You feel overburdened, over extended, under-appreciated, and under-loved.

Suddenly, you start to have fantasies about living with taciturn monks on lonely mountaintops, or maybe being abducted by aliens. You run out into the yard at night, look up at the stars, and scream, "Beam me up Scottie!" Your neck tingles. Whirling around, you spy the neighbors peeking out from behind their curtains and laughing hysterically. You duck your head and slink back into the house, praying fervently that you’ll slip into a catatonic state before breakfast.

Morning dawns. You reluctantly open your eyes. Ugh! Instead of saying, "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it", you whine, "I guess I might as well get up and get this day over with."

Call it stress, mid-life crisis, or over-work; whatever the label, the result is the same: the pity party of the year. You invited all your emotions to the bash, and they’re out of control, having a great time. A couple of them are dancing on tabletops with lampshades on their heads. You’re starting to envy the emotionless Mr. Spock.

At this point in your life, it’s hard to imagine anything worth giving thanks for. Life stinks. It really does. You sit at the kitchen table moping, your head in your hands.

A persistent sound manages to penetrate your gloomy musings. A cardinal is singing outside your patio door: delicate and beautiful. Looking up, you smile, your mood lightened a tiny bit. You glance outside and take note of the amazing variety and gracefulness of the feathered creatures at your feeder. Their antics sweeten your sour attitude further.

The cat on the picnic table is listlessly washing her face with her paws, sun glinting off her satiny, gray fur and silhouetting her whiskers. She purrs, the very epitome of serenity.

The puppy, with her freckled, velvety face sleeps peacefully on the floor. Pleasant dog dreams cause her feet to twitch. She stretches and groans with contentment. The old dog dozes next to the puppy, her wizened face relaxed as she soaks up the late fall sunshine.

The sky is a vivid cobalt blue. White clouds float overhead, reminiscent of foam on ocean waves. Sparks of light, reflecting off little feathered bodies, betray the presence of a flock of migrating birds too high to see clearly. You take a deep breath. The faint smell of wood smoke flavors the breeze, like the bouquet of a fine wine. You can actually taste the sweetness of the air, and it is good.

Nerves relax. Stomach muscles loosen and some of the coldness in your heart thaws. You hate to break up the party and have "last call", but maybe life isn’t as dark as you’ve painted it recently. It’s possible you may have over-reacted. Deep inside, buried under all the coats from the guests at the pity-party, a little voice says," I told you so." You hate it when that happens.

You start to think of all the things that make your life special: the stuffing in the turkey of existence. Images crowd your mind like Christmas shoppers at the mall.

There are coral and aqua colored sunsets, cattails rattling in the wind, fiery colored leaves, and the honking of geese as they head south. The aesthetic joy of seeing a dark red leaf lying on lush green grass makes living richer. The catch is learning to notice and appreciate the wonder of being, and not letting the frustrations of daily living smother the joy.

You start to mentally compile a list of things that make life worthwhile.

• Loving and serving God. Prayer.
• The warmth and love of belonging to a family, whether by blood or friendship. Kin, church members, neighbors etc. create a sense of community. In good times or bad, their presence makes life rewarding.
• Time spent with your spouse, whether snuggling on the couch, or enjoying the intimate atmosphere of a restaurant. The annual familiar ceremonies, such as decorating the house for Christmas. The joys of the holidays, as the two of you enjoy the crisp winter air and each other. Laughing at private jokes. Vacations, long walks, and warm kisses. Skiing together in the romantic softness of the snow. Worshiping together. Working on home projects as partners.
• Puppy kisses, cat purrs, warm fur on cold feet, and unconditional love shining from a pet’s eyes. Playing tuggy and throwing Frisbees.
• Music and musicians. Banjos.
• Polkas and Powwows.
• Books, newspapers, magazines.
• A crackling fire in the fireplace on a cold winter night, a cozy blanket, and a warm cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream.
• Chocolate.(in any form)
• Good food, good coffee, Good beer.
• Flowers, herbs, and fresh vegetables from your own garden. Fields of corn rattling in the breeze. Butterflies, caterpillars, bees, and feeding backyard critters. Deer.
• Iridescent hummingbirds.
• The distant sound of coyotes calling.
• The Moon, stars, comets, and meteor showers. Pleides.
• Aurora borealis.
• Fine wine in crystal goblets.
• Golden sunrises.
• Biting into fresh fruit in the fall, the sticky sweet juice trickling down your chin. Apple cider.
• Good movies, and television. Talented actors.
• Snow.
• Warm bubble baths with scented soap. Hot showers and squeaky-clean hair. Perfume.
• Jokes.
• Helping others.
• The earthy smoothness of pottery clay.
• Candle lit dinners. Scented candles and incense.
• Waterfalls, rock formations, the great Northwoods.
• Christmas Caroling. Christmas lights and decorations. Holiday treats and smells.
• A baby’s innocent laughter.

You could continue your list "ad nauseum". So many things can cause your heart to beat a little quicker, or give you that warm fuzzy feeling. Unfortunately, you have to stop somewhere.

No two people’s lists are alike; your passions define who you are. Your own enchantments are fluid, changing as you grow.

The world we live in is diverse and marvelous. When sitting down to that special meal on Thanksgiving, meditate on how much you’ve been blessed. Open your heart and mind; then when giving thanks, maybe you can lift your eyes to heaven and sincerely mean it.