Archives for posts with tag: what are you celebrating?

Taking a Week for Gratitude

November 24, 2025 //
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I’m in the co-work space this morning, and already set up for a new work day (and week). Short week; it is Thanksgiving this week, and for me that kicks off the winter holiday season, generally. Over the years, my thinking has evolved with regard to many of the holidays on the US holiday calendar, even Thanksgiving. When I was a child, I had a child’s perspective on this holiday. Family, feasting, and… pilgrims. Somehow, the USA made this holiday some sort of foundation myth of our national identity, but without the nasty bits. We glossed over land grabs and genocide with a hearty portion of turkey with stuffing and mashed potatoes with gravy, a side of corn, and big slices of pumpkin pie for dessert. Tradition.

For me, this holiday is not in anyway to do with the mythology of US identity, nor pilgrims, nor even the indigenous peoples we surely could have treated more ethically than we did. It is first and foremost, a harvest feast, a celebration of thanks for making it through another year of struggle, an opportunity to sit down together and share whatever abundance we have with each other, and exchange our gratitude and anecdotes along with our treasured recipes. It doesn’t need to be more than that. It never did.

My fondest Thanksgiving memories from childhood are of distant cousins coming to town to sit down for the most lavish meal of the year at Grandfather’s house. Family from as far away as the Dakotas and Texas would journey to coastal Maryland. The meal would be served at “the big table”, after a day of women in the kitchen, and men out hunting. Kids underfoot at the house would be enlisted to complete various chores, setting the table, carrying things up or down stairs, tidying up some shared space. The conversation among the women in the kitchen was often lively, and sometimes “scandalous” (if I understood what I was hearing). The men would return from hunting, in jovial moods, whether they were “successful” or not – it was the outing that was the thing, strolling the forest and hillsides in the crisp autumn air. I have dim recollections of occasional snow, and occasional football. I have clear recollections of stealing cookies from the big tins of holiday cookies baked by my Grandmother. (Her cooking wasn’t great, but she made fantastic cookies!)

My adult Thanksgiving memories span multiple partnerships and locations. They vary. The food was always good, generally the company was as well. Most of the time, people managed to set aside petty gripes and bullshit and drama, in favor of a merry holiday meal. Sometimes that wasn’t so easily done. Some years, the meal was a quiet one, just my partner and I. Other years, it was a busier affair with friends or family. I even enjoyed Thanksgiving quite alone once or twice, without sorrow or disappointment; they were lovely holidays, and I enjoy my own cooking. A couple times, we’ve gone out for Thanksgiving dinner, putting the time into other things, and the money into someone else’s work in the kitchen. Those were delightful celebrations, too.

I guess what makes it Thanksgiving for me is more about the intentional observance of giving thanks, together. The practice of making a moment to truly express and experience my gratitude for here, now, and the sufficiency of the moment is what makes it Thanksgiving, and not just a party or an elaborate dinner.

I begin the week thankful. The pantry is stocked with everything I’ll need to make Thanksgiving dinner. I’ve got a secure home, pleasantly warm, with indoor plumbing and highspeed internet access. I’ll enjoy the meal with people dear to me. I’m in love, and have the good fortunate to share my life with this person I love so dearly. I have what I need in life. I’ve got this job to pay for it all. It’s a lot to be thankful for, so I guess I should not be surprised that I can find opportunities for gratitude almost every day, and probably all week long. I smile to myself and sigh contentedly. Nothing lasts forever, I know, but wow this is one lovely moment, right here, now. I take time to enjoy it, before I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words

Sitting With the Moment

July 2, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee on a sunny summer morning. I woke earlier than necessary, tackled a gardening task my Traveling Partner asked me to attend to before I left for the office. The commute was an ordinary enough sort of drive, with very little traffic and a lovely sunrise I’d happily have enjoyed just sitting and watching, if it were that sort of morning. (It isn’t; it’s a work day and I had an early call.) I sigh to myself, now, thinking of other sunrises, and other summer mornings.

The Fourth of July is just ahead of us on the calendar, and I find myself wondering… what are we even celebrating, with democracy going down in flames, ridiculous new heights of governmental cruelty being achieved, and authoritarianism on the rise in this once (mostly) democratic republic? Surely we’re not stupid and arrogant enough to think we’re celebrating our national independence? We can’t possibly still see ourselves as “the good guys” on the world stage (particularly after betraying multiple trusts, treaties, and allies)? It’s all rather grotesque, isn’t it? How did we get here? (I mean, critical thinking and rational contemplation will easily answer that question for you, but you may not like the answer. I know I don’t.) Do better, America – you so easily could. I’m honestly deeply disappointed, not only as a citizen, but also as a military veteran. I don’t have any easy answers, but I can see this is “not the way”. Nothing about the path we’re on is “making America great”.

I sigh to myself and let that shit go. Again. I look out the window on a lovely summer morning, and wish you well, today (each and all of you). I hope no one is coming for you and that you feel safe. I hope you experience moments of joy, both profound and simple, and often. I hope you are loved. I hope you are walking your own path, finding your own way, and satisfied with the journey you are making. I hope you’re getting somewhere in life – and that your successes are as you, yourself, define success. I hope you thrive and prosper. (And no, I don’t care about your immigration status, religion, gender, or the color of your skin – we’re all equally human, are we not?) I hope that if you are sick, you have adequate resources and access to necessary medical care. I hope that if you find yourself anxious that you also find hope and comfort. I hope gratitude is a larger part of your experience than resentment, and that your curiosity about the world around you dampens your anger over circumstances. I hope you find equity and that you are treated fairly in life. I hope you free yourself from poor decision-making and unverified assumptions. I hope you take a moment to enjoy simply being, now and then, and appreciate how precious each moment really is.

Human beings have so much capacity for love, joy, and compassion. We could do better than we often do, each of us, every day. I sit with that thought – I’m no angel. I’m not perfect. I struggle. I yearn. I fret over nonsense. I keep practicing; we become what we practice. (What are you practicing? Is that who you truly wish to be?)

I think about the things I’ve seen in life. The places I’ve been. As journeys go, this thing called “life” has lead me far and wide, down one path and then another, and there’s no knowing what is around the next bend – more practicing, more steps, and further to go, but… what else? Where does this path lead? I guess I’ll know once I get there, wherever “there” happens to be. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and embrace this very pleasant “now”. I know it’ll pass – moments always do. No telling what’s next, so it only makes sense to enjoy this, right here, for every second of this finite mortal life that can be enjoyed, eh?

My mind wanders to my garden, before returning to the workday in front of me. A long weekend ahead sounds nice, though I don’t prefer the summer heat, and genuinely don’t see what it is we should be celebrating on the 4th of July these days. My sigh breaks the stillness, again. My anxiety flares up in the background; the world is in chaos, and sometimes I feel as if I can’t breathe because of it. Existential dread is an ass-kicker. I take time for meditation to steady myself for another day. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Despair, Frustration, gratitude, joy, Logic & Reason, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, Words

Celebrating Independence

July 4, 2017 //
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I could go see fireworks tonight. I probably won’t. I’ll certainly have to listen to neighbors light firecrackers in the park until well-past midnight. Last night it only lasted until about 11 pm. I’m sure people just don’t think about the effect it has on others, or dogs, or cats, or wildlife. They’ve already rationalized away any specific risk of harm, so why would they be expected to consider their actions in the context of its impact on others? Well.. for starters, because that’s a thing. LOL Basic consideration – it’s one of my “Big 5” relationship values, personally. I don’t understand how people manage close relationships without it.

In most respects today is an ordinary day, aside from expecting a lot of bangs and booms later tonight. I’ll spend today boxing up more things, and staying cool. At some point I’ll return to the car to my Traveling Partner and enjoy his company for a little while.

Each day is a new opportunity to fill our hearts with light, and to live mindfully with purpose.

Will you be barbecuing? Heading to the local lake or swimming hole? Hosting some large gathering of family or friends? Visiting historical sites? Camping? Taking a road trip? Seeing fireworks is probably a given for most Americans… One thing, though – do you understand what you are celebrating, or is it just an excuse to party and blow shit up? I just thought I’d ask… Having a good time with your friends isn’t something that needs an excuse or justification. So… what makes this special to you? Is it just lighting sparklers and setting off firecrackers – because you don’t do that every day? Does the day have real conscious considered meaning to you? Maybe it should?

What are you celebrating?

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Categories Free Will, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Being True

March 27, 2016 //
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Happy Easter! Well, or whatever you are celebrating this morning that may or may not be identified in that fashion. As a youngster, I loved Easter – the egg hunt, the hidden (and very fancy) basket of generally wonderful chocolates and confections, the decorated eggs (which were sometimes quite lavish and exotic at our house, as my Mother was willing to blow eggs, and decorate them as fictional characters, and such, and we would often enjoy coloring eggs the evening before hand – a celebration of its own). Many years as an adult, I continued to celebrate the splendor of spring with Easter baskets, Easter eggs, Easter chocolates. It didn’t matter one bit to me that the aspects of the Easter celebration commonly associated with Christian faiths was often so culturally prominent, leaving the heartfelt earthy practical symbols of spring and fertility to wonder if anyone remembered them; I remembered, and celebrated, and that was enough.

Many years into adulthood, sometime well past 40, I gave up celebrating Easter; the celebrations I love most are pretty calorie-rich, costly, and labor intensive, and I had gained a lot of weight over the years. It had become an insincere celebration, too, unshared, solitary, and unhealthy. I couldn’t afford the rich artisan-crafted exotic chocolates I wanted for fancy baskets I yearned for but had no room to store. The hand-crafted ceramic eggs I had made for myself years before remained wrapped up and put away for many years. My enthusiasm for life was muted by prescription drugs intended to dull only my symptoms, but in fact pretty much just shut me down in all but those moments when nothing could. Easter was lost to me, and the feeble stirrings of interest in some years, more than others, didn’t really bring it back.

Set aside but not forgotten.

Set aside and forgotten… for a time.

This morning I woke thinking about Easter. I woke thinking about spring, beginnings, verbs, ancient rites performed by superstitious primates, earnest rituals performed by true believers, and ceramic Easter eggs, carefully put away, that have no calories at all – only loveliness. I woke with a smile. There is no hurting here this morning, beyond the usual morning stiffness and aching of my arthritis. I feel a mild sensation of regret looking out over the park, beyond the tall grasses to the playground; I could have hidden Easter eggs for the children this year. So fun. I might have filled some with jelly beans, others with coins, some with comforting or thought-provoking aphorisms. I didn’t; Easter had been put away for so long I had forgotten it entirely, until this morning, even though sentences using the word had certainly fallen from my lips in recent weeks. How strange.

There is no moment of bitter disappointment or any particular sadness this morning. Actually, I feel rather hopeful, and eager to see Easter coming up on next year’s calendar. I find myself contemplating ‘being true’ to the woman in the mirror, all her facets, all her joys. I realize that ‘authenticity’ and ‘being true’ to oneself have a connection – noun and verb – and as is so often the case, the verbs involved really matter if that elusive noun is to be achieved, lived, and cherished.

A chilly bumble bee, tired and cold and waiting on the warmth of the day.

A chilly bumblebee, tired and cold and waiting for the sun.

Happy Easter. Today is a good day to be true to my vision of the best woman I can be. There are verbs involved, sure, and my results will vary. Every one of life’s Easter eggs is a moment of potential wonder and immense joy. Everyone of life’s moments is a potential Easter egg. 🙂

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Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, Words