Today before sunrise I woke up in a sturdy bed, under cozy covers, and on a firm mattress. None of which I had made.
I got out of bed.
I flipped on the light switch by the bathroom mirror and squeezed toothpaste onto a brush. None of which I had made.
I reached for pants, shirt, socks, and shoes. None of which I had made.
I dressed.
I walked down steps across a floor into the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. None of which I had made. Nor had I grown, cultivated, harvested, packaged, shipped, or shelved the coffee.
I sipped my coffee.
I placed a bowl and a spoon on the kitchen counter. None of which I had made.
I filled my bowl with grains, nuts, seeds, spices, and fruit. I did not grow, cultivate, harvest, package, ship, or shelve any of those ingredients.
I ate breakfast.
I put on my jacket, picked up my coffee, opened the back door, let the cat out, and stood on the deck. I heard birds chirp. I saw shadowy trees sway and morning stars wane. I watched the sun rise over South Mountain and shine through the woods wherein stood a cautious deer. None of which I had made.
I turned away.
I had a blog to write.
I went to my office, sat down at my desk, turned on my computer and some classical music. I stared at a blank page. I scratched my head for a subject. Nothing.
Well, what about Thanksgiving?
What about it? It’s contrived, isn’t it? It’s like my mother often said: if you’re not mindful of me on other days, don’t call me on Mother’s Day. (She could be sassy!)
If you’re not mindful of me!
Suddenly I saw what I had missed at every turn this morning. I had gotten out of bed, but I had not awakened.
I will never meet all those—in heaven or on earth—who made my life so rich this morning. But If I could, I would say, “Thank you.”
Meister Eckhart said: If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is “thank you,” it will be enough.
I suppose if we were mindful all day every day, that’s the only prayer we’d have time for.
The world is full of grace.
It’s hard to miss it.
But we do.
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See Paula’s “Sunrise on Bear’s Rocks, Dolly Sods” photograph on the home page.
Now that was a love poem to life! Thank you. And thanks to your mom.
My house, like yours, is full of things whose makers I’ll never meet. However, we have an increasing number of things whose makers and growers [here in Maine] we do know. The whole area around us is sharing in the uptick of locally made and grown life-supporting stuff, including shoes! I find gratitude comes more easily to me when I know the maker or when the source is near. Not that gratitude should be easy for its own sake. But in my imagination, the prayers of gratitude become collective when I sprinkle on blueberries from neighbors Nicholas and Ruth and know they were harvested while wearing shoes my daughter made.
The biggest takeaway from this is, who brushes their teeth before drinking coffee? That ruins the taste of coffee…
In Junior High a teacher asked the class to write about what we hoped to be when we “grew up.” Most wrote about professions, some about monetary achievements, and one wished to be paid for appreciating art, literature, and culture. What did a pimply teen know?
Thank you for Meister Eckhart’s two-word prayer. One of my favorites. Also, thank you for your blog which you did make!
Since my illness I have appreciated so many things in life which I had previously taken for granted. Life can be short, we should cherish every moment, as well as appreciating people like you who remind us how important a “thank you” is! ??
I didn’t make me, I didn’t make today—but today, I did make pancakes.
This is a beautiful expression of that particularly Buddhist idea that everything is inter-connected. If we could all realize that, maybe we could end war and climate change and a host of other evils that beset us.
Daily expressions of gratitude (actions speak louder than words here) are the surest path to personal freedom and joy, which change the world–and us!–for the better. And why would we not be grateful for every particle comprising this planet and beyond, from whence we were and are made? Separation is an illusion. ?
Thanksgiving is the least contrived of our celebrations, and that’s why I love it so. It doesn’t require adherance to any belief system. The mythology about the Pilgrim’s first Thanksgiving is no less symbolic than many of the Bible stories, but as you used to say, “It may not have happened that way, but it’s true.”