When you’ve forgotten how to be blessed
Sometimes I think I’ve forgotten how to be blessed, how to acknowledge and appreciate all that I have. I get so preoccupied by the slow-running bathroom sink, tiny lines around my eyes, my missing reading glasses, underarm jiggle, and a jagged mountain of work frustrations that I don’t step back and see the bigger picture in my life.
It’s easy to see those blessings that have come along and kicked your door down and jumped on your lap. Even things like a roof over our heads and enough to eat are what we may rattle off when someone challenges us to “count our blessings,” as if they’re jelly beans in jar and you’re trying to win the contest. I don’t count my blessings anymore. I find that when I’m focused on how many blessings I have, I’m still missing the point. If you only have one thing in your life that makes you feel blessed, aren’t you every bit as blessed as the person who is waving around a list of a hundred? I think so. Perhaps even a little more.
As I sit here watching the late autumn sun, which wasn’t all that committed to being here today in the first place, slip away and cover the trees’ hold-out leaves in an early darkness, I feel the approach of Thanksgiving. And it’s with a Herculean effort that I put aside the financial stresses of the holiday season, the nattering of my neighbor about the winter storm we may or may not be getting soon, and the endless lectures on my Facebook wall that strive to make sure I’m sufficiently aware of and sorry for the Trail of Tears, stores that are open on Thanksgiving, the greedy capitalist machine that created Black Friday, tofurkey, all those who say “Happy Holidays” as a clear act of unbridled aggression against the Baby Jesus, and those who think someone saying “Merry Christmas” constitutes a hate crime, and I quietly ask myself… for what am I most thankful this year?
The list is not as long as some would tell me it ought to be – it’s much easier to see everyone else’s blessings more clearly than your own, isn’t it? But the blessings I’ve pulled here into a little pile to sort through and smile at are important. They are the very foundation of my life. My strong, healthy body. My family and friends. My writing. My faith. My ability to love and be loved. Those who came before me, those who will follow.
There is a moment, when you’ve put everything else aside and are looking, with clear eyes and an open heart, at the good in your life, when you suddenly realize just how lucky you are. It’s that merging point, when all those bits come together and your breath catches and your chest constricts a little, and you just think, “Thank you.” That moment, that precise, perfect moment, is your greatest blessing.
Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.
