A Small Thanksgiving Day Afternoon Meditation

A Small Thanksgiving Day Afternoon Meditation November 26, 2015

Rockwell, Thanksgiving.jpg

Our family thanksgiving gathering is actually going to be tomorrow at Jan’s mom’s home across the metroplex. Jan​ and I are the primary cooks. So, today has been largely about the kitchen.

I’m doing one of those foolish things, cooking something for sharing without having done it before. The clan ranges from must have dead animal on the table three times a day to vegans. There have been tensions in the past. Jan’s and my contribution is bridging all this as much as possible. So, one of three entrees will be Turkey breast (avoiding the corpse part of the problem), currently sitting in the ‘fridge “dry brining.” The other two will be vegan options, one brought by other members of the family.

So, the foolish thing. I’m making a vegan pumpkin ravioli dish. I’ve never made raviolis before. A small time saver was purchasing potsticker wrappers (yes, made without eggs) However, I miscalculated and purchased one packet when I needed two. And so feeling a little guilty for doing any shopping on this day, I made a run to the almost local mega mart.

It’s housed in a large strip mall. As I drove in there was a bit of a line outside the Best Buy. I was, honestly, a bit surprised as I think the real deals these days are mostly to be found online. But, there they were. Not tons of folk, but a batch, with bundled coats and chairs. Didn’t see any tents, and wasn’t really sure when the store actually is supposed to open. Maybe midnight?

And then as I made my way to the grocery store, standing near an entrance, but not too near, was a youngish looking woman with two children. The sign she was holding up was heart breaking. Being past lucky in the great lottery I gave her some money. And after collecting up my wonton wrappers, I got in the car and drove home.

Feeling mixed feelings.

Among them. Guilt. I am so lucky. Mostly lucky. Bewildered by the idea of people celebrating Thanksgiving by standing on line for a day. Torn so much that a woman with two children is begging in order to feed her children. In this country, which I still somewhere deep down feel should be better than that.

And I think about Thanksgiving.

Elsewhere I’ve discussed how I find it unfortunate our American holiday is attached to the Pilgrim and Indian story with its ugly subtext. Unfortunate because the holiday is a deep visceral thing, a time to be grateful. I have a few friends who think there shouldn’t have to be days set aside to celebrate things like gratitude. But I think they’re wrong. Such things are about as old as our humanity. Certainly this particular seasonal celebration of gratitude is at least as old as agriculture.

In the great mix, amongst the uncertainty of life, I find myself thinking of that silly Passover song with the refrain going something like “they tried to kill us, we’re alive, let’s eat.” Pretty much all humans could sing that song.

And a little acknowledging how lucky we are for what we have; what a seasoning for a meal.

And there’s that woman and her children. A few bucks helped today. She needs more. And she’s not alone in this need and the fragility of it all.

Which makes me think rather than the Pilgrim and Indian story, as we cast about for something, there’s little better than the dream of Exodus. Totally a-historical as best I can tell. Archetypal villains with the Egyptians, and then a great escape. All celebrated at a meal. Yes, there are problems.

But, the bottom line part of it, that “they tried to kill us,” the reality of life, always at the edge, “We survived” we are here, we are breathing, and if we are lucky, we’re with people we love, and then that big thing, “Let’s eat!” one of the great joys of human life.

Thanksgiving.

Passover.

The great mix up. A little laughter. Some tears.

The great noticing. They tried to kill us. We survived. Let’s eat.

Thanksgiving.


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