Thanksgiving.

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When I talk about thanksgiving, most people think Thanksgiving Day. Sometimes I expand and share my thoughts, sometimes I leave it there. The truth is, as often as I remember to do so, I give thanks. Thanksgiving is not a day on which I should enjoy turkey, cranberry sauce, potatoes, and other such foods with family, friends, or even strangers. Thanksgiving is an every day event, like Christmas, Easter, and the others. It is not that I still draw breath, it is not that I know freedom, it is not even that I have people who love me and a God who loves me more than any one else can. When I wake up, I mean to remember it. When I go to sleep, I mean to remember it. Actually, any time I pray, I mean to remember that as a component. I am very grateful. My life has become much better when I saw through to that too.

I am ill. I am not able to enjoy life as I would, I am not able to get an education to my capacity in order to work, and I cannot work even at a lesser post. Something is wrong, I live in a world of exhaustion. And, I have great shame for this. I see people struggle to wake up, go to work or school, raise their families, create relationships and deal with those, and do works to better the lives of those around them. I know they are tired at the end of the day, and perhaps at any given point, but I see to that they are able to continue. I know some must wonder about me. I know I wonder… and doubt. Sometimes I do well, so I cannot understand why I cannot always work hard. I enjoy working hard, physically or mentally, when I can. I like to figure things out, expand my knowledge, or build something. Then I realize, even when something comes up that most would think of (and I certainly think of) as fun, I may still be unavailable to do it. Then I know, I am ill.

I am alone. I am not able to get out and go. I enjoy people’s company, mostly. Even those I do not ‘like’, I can enjoy, if we can agree to set aside our differences and just explore each other’s life stories, the memories fond and sad, or such. I like to see people, and more, to hear about new things in their lives and changes to come, and then to grow to know them through the tails, trials, joys, and monotony. Over time, they become family. But, I am locked into my little world. Leaving to participate is very difficult, if nigh onto impossible at times. A sleeping man cannot go, a man so tired he cannot remember the date or think to find what day and month it is will not remember to go visiting, a guy who cannot be sure when he will be awake, night or day, cannot be sure of plans. I lose friends to that, and, I understand.

I can be grumpy. I like things a certain way and I have high expectations. I expect a great deal from myself, when I am able, even when I am not. And I pass that expectation to others in a lesser way, if even that is rather draconian. Hard work, if it fails to meet an end, is a waste. Good thinking which misses a point and therefore fails to fulfill it’s concomitant effort and sacrifice of other projects and wants and sometimes needs, is useless if it fails to solve a problem or educate. And, a good deed meant as such at the outset, done rightly, yet failing to end in a good result, is not a good deed after all. I see this for myself and for others. And when I see failure, I do not like it. Often others see this as a judgment on them, rather than on their works which have failed. Or upon the lack of reason for their positions, in which I despise evil ways regardless of the intent, if I still love the person. Some people have inextricably tied themselves to their works or thoughts and cannot accept criticism. And, I suppose, with those who cannot carry through to the end, perhaps it is personal. Though I fail often, I am also able to carry through as flawlessly as men are able when I am able to function. And, no, that is not enough to satisfy my standards as it is not repeatable over extended periods of time. I have had to learn to get beyond that, to a degree. And yet, I cannot quite leave my intent to do right and expect others to do the same. Yes, grumpy, exacting, demanding.

So, why be thankful? I am broken, alone, with higher standards than what I can meet, and more. I am thankful that God has called me, and that I finally bowed. I understand now, most of the time, that if I cannot do my will, I can still succeed at being a good man and doing the right things at a slower pace and just for goodness’ sake. I know I am loved here and there. And, I do have a purpose. If my purpose is merely to be humble and to being giving and sharing as I am able, that can be enough. I am thankful, every day, several times a day when I remember and sometimes when I cannot see it. Why others see thanksgiving as a day for turkey, friends, and football I can only wonder. Life is an amazing gift; it is a way to learn about love, each other, and God; it is a miracle of thought, sensation, and discernment; and it is a chance at eternal life within the realm of understanding with the Essence of Love. Imagine if you could win the lottery simply by believing. Now realize, the lottery is as of nothing compared to what you may have. There is no chance in it, there is no doubt, and the faith that allows gratefulness enhances the gift more so. May you find life something rich which allows you to be ultimately and finally gratefull.

Enjoy your Sunday.