I’m thankful that today I can write a sappy post with no apology. I’m thankful that last year at this time, I got to see how the Native American community hates this day, and how going forward, I will try to leaven my gratitude with its other side—which is humility. I’m thankful that the threats to our country have shown me how many of us regular folks will step up to save our country; and that the truth is finally coming out about so many people’s criminal behavior. I’m thankful that I’m true friends with my family; that I have so much family that I can’t see them all on a single day; and that if I want, I get to talk with both them and far-flung friends all the time. I’m thankful that despite a summer of self-doubt, I feel I have a right to keep doing what I love, and that my husband gives me space to go live alone in the woods with it. I’m thankful that right now, I can sit on a porch that overlooks the Pacific, while I drink my coffee and write about what I love; and that somebody in a Jeep is playing Hendrix’s “Castles Made of Sand”–which really is sort of a Thanksgiving song. And finally I’m thankful that Whitman taught us how gratitude can become a type of poetry that borders on mysticism; and that each of us can feel the largeness of the good, simply by listing the places we find it.
(Originally posted November 23, 2017)