Reasons to be thankful
Thanksgiving has just drawn to a close in New York, where I was born. In California, where most of my family is celebrating, they’ve got another three hours to go before they close the book on this year’s turkeyfest. And next Saturday in New Zealand, which for obvious reasons doesn’t celebrate the arrival of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock, my partner and I will host our third annual Thanksgiving Extravaganza. If we can’t bring the mountain to Thanksgiving, we’ll bring Thanksgiving to the mountain.
This holiday has always been exceptionally special for me. Every year, for the past two decades or so, my full extended family has come from all over the U.S. to gather in the house of a chosen relative. We’ve feasted together in Chicago, ridden snowmobiles together in the Colorado Rockies, and gone swimming together in the murky waters of the Baja peninsula. We’ve rejoiced babies and mourned deaths. We’ve agreed to appreciate this holiday—discussions of historical hypocrisy notwithstanding—for its highest self and true nature: a reminder to be thankful, for each other, for all of our blessings, and for every day.
Yesterday, a client of mine passed away suddenly, of a heart attack. He was only 50 years old. His death reminds me to be thankful for my heart, which beats tirelessly, without reward or punishment, without holiday or overtime, without rest or remuneration. This is not an entitlement, or something I can take for granted.
I think of the six children that he left behind and I’m thankful that my own father passed away with nothing left unsaid between us; I am grateful for every moment I was lucky to share with him.
I appreciate my body, which works when I ask it to and allows me to enjoy the beauty of hiking through the New Zealand bush and kayaking through Lyttelton Harbour. I am lucky to have all of my organs and limbs intact; many people don’t. My brain ticks and whirrs and allows me to enjoy books and movies and good conversation.
I am privileged to have a stable roof over my head and food on the plate at every meal, clean water to drink and a partner who loves me. I have good friends who are there when I need them and fresh vegetables growing in the garden.
And last, but most certainly not least, I am deeply, profoundly, gut-wrenchingly thankful that you have trusted me with a bit of your most precious asset, time. I am truly grateful that you marry my writing with your reading; I am exceptionally grateful to those of you who are moved to take up the gauntlet and join the conversation.
I would love to hear from you about your own Thanksgiving thoughts and experiences (or more general ones if you choose not to celebrate Turkey Day), and I am thankful for them, in advance.
Have a wonderful holiday.
