The thing we have that’s closest to a national gratitude day is here. The one day when it’s required to stuff yourself (and then keep eating), and think of something you’re thankful for, because your Aunt Edith won’t let anyone up from the table until everybody has thought of at least one thing they’re grateful for, dammit.
I’m always droning on about this practice of gratitude, because quite frankly I think it’s the key to happiness. Doesn’t that sound so, well CHEESEY, so BAD HALLMARK CARD-Y? Of course it does. That’s why it’s hard to talk about this subject in a real way without turning people off because they think they’re listening to some sort of sermon, and who has time to listen to a sermon filled with cliches? But the true identity of gratitude is much quieter. And simpler. It’s not flashy, or cliche. It’s as real as it gets. Because it’s all about noticing real things. It’s easy to dismiss the teeny tiny stuff that makes our lives better, and which not everybody has. Why, just since I woke up, here’s what I could focus on that could set the tone for the rest of my day:
1. My bed is absurdly comfortable. Like I-could-stay-in-it-forever comfortable.
2. My dog is at the bottom of the bed in his little bed, which is probably not as comfortable as mine, and I love him like I gave birth to him (and still think it’s possible I might have).
3. The guy sleeping next to me has been there for 27 years (not always in such a comfortable bed) and works with me (at varying levels of success) everyday to create a happy life.
4. My toilet flushes. I could be peeing in a hole, outside. And c’mon, you gotta be grateful not to have to clean up your own poop.
5. I have internet service. It connects me to the whole freaking world!
I will stop now, lest you think I am just over the top (but jeez, what would you expect here at the gratitude-a-thon). I don’t want to be that. But I am like everyone else, in that when you find something you think is five stars, you want to share it with others.
There’s all sorts of gratitude challenges and books and messages out there. Maybe you think it’s all crap. But it’s not. Really. It’s not. All I’m going to say, is think about it. I swear it’s as good as that turkey, those buttery mashed potatoes, and the fantasy of telling Aunt Edith to just shut the hell up.
Happy Thanksgiving. xoxoxo