Thankfulness, Take 2

This is a re-do. A short do-over.

I missed the Thanksgiving roundup of thankfulness because I was grumpy that day. I couldn’t bring myself to write about thankfulness in detail at that time. The state of the world was weighing too heavily that I lost my positive perspective. I lost my ability to self-regulate on a day when I really needed it.

But what a difficult thing it is to be alive, to be human, to be an adult right now. Or maybe always. Unclear. I’ve only been alive now. 

At all times, we construct at least two narratives: one that encompasses the world’s daily events, and one that’s more insular - logistics and bill-paying and carting kids to events. But what each of us lets in, what each of us gives our attention to is really the world we live in. And because of phones and social media, we’ve gotten very good at switching our attention from one topic to another lightning quick, albeit giving none of those topics deep study, which would lead to understanding. Cursory knowledge is the name of the game. We get snippets of current events, then switch to tidbits of what our kids or friends or family are up to, then shift to gossip or tv or whatever. Nothing owns us for long, so all of it is shouting, trying to hold us as long as it can.

Our understanding of the world comes from our perception and interpretation of events like the three horrific shootings that occurred over the weekend, in Australia, at Brown, and in Rob Reiner’s home. Each of these tragedies on its own is enough to paralyze me. And then a person can consider that these large scale tragedies are joined every day by smaller ones. I should say, there are millions of tragedies occurring everyday that might be smaller in scale but are equally devastating to the people they affect. It is so much. There is so much awful happening. 

But we can't take it all in. Time moves on, and we have to manage our feelings surrounding these totally avoidable tragedies along with wondering why the hell Walton Goggins needs money badly enough to dress up like the Grinch in Walmart commercials. Does he not have a financial advisor? We have to plan holiday dress-up days, so we go to Macy’s for holiday socks. We research holiday meal ideas and decorate our homes for various gatherings and walk our dogs and go to work. We compartmentalize and do the best we can. 

It doesn’t mean the horrors aren’t happening. It doesn’t mean we aren’t paying attention or that we don’t care. There’s too much awful. And there's too much pulling at our attention.

It is because of the pull of never-ending news of despair, that intentionally practicing some thankfulness feels important. It feels grounding and centering. It feels like connection to the reality I want to choose. I’m thankful for the small joys. I could not keep going if it weren’t for good friends with whom I can mourn over coffee, and then talk about our kids, and then mourn some more. I could not withstand the overwhelming sadness if it weren’t for intentional community. I'm thankful for conversations that forcibly cause me to slow down, to put down my phone, not to ignore the world, but to go a little deeper into one topic with someone.

I don't know how to fix the problem of gun violence, though we can contact our congresspeople here and visit this site to find ways to get involved with women who started a nationwide movement. We can lift each other up to keep our heads above water. We can take breaks. We can cry. And we can continue to find the small sparks of joy that keep our flames burning.