The Daily: 29 November 2024

I had every intention of writing something acerbic about Black Friday and marketing in the age of collapse, about the indignation I feel when asked to spend money by people who apparently have more than enough of their own money because they are using it to phone, email, text and otherwise intrude into my life. To my mind, they don’t need any more resources to further that project. They certainly don’t need my meagre resources. Nor yours either, I’d wager.

But then I asked myself… why? We all know what is wrong. Do we notice what is right?

It is snowing. Voces8 is playing quietly. The house is warm and scented with butternut squash, wild rice, and mushrooms. I am replete. My family and friends, spread out though we are, are all safe. One of the few delights of the instant messaging age is that we can talk to each other all day long, sending photos and snippets of video, commenting on ephemera and trivialities, just being present though not.

And in that mood, I decided, instead, to put aside the outrage today and list the things that keep me going. Because outrage is not on that list… So here is a short thanksgiving litany.

---

I am grateful to live amongst all these earnest, goofy Vermonters who shrugged off the election like so much cold rain. This is not to say that they, we, approve. A fews days after the election, the entire doc imaging department in my [mostly female] bank was talking of moving to Kiribati… but I think that’s been tabled. There were just too many more important things. Holidays, babies, deer hunting season, craft fairs, and Marsha’s fudge.

I am further grateful that these earnest Vermonters are all so practical and imperturbable. I would not want to live through the disasters of these times with any less able and more excitable people.

I am grateful for warm socks. Do you know how much can be put to rights just by keeping your feet cozy?

I am grateful for music. All kinds, from birdsong to Puccini to Thom Yorke. Some claim that the purpose of humans is to reflect the universe. I believe that we are here to sing. To lift our agile voices in harmony with the world. To use our clever hands to harness wind and resonance. To festoon melody with poetry. I am forever amazed by musicians and so blessed to count myself as one.

I am grateful for green chile. It is the spice of life.

I am grateful for unpredictable weather. It is good to be reminded daily that we are not in control, that we don’t even know where the control levers are.

I am grateful for mountains, which are also imperturbable Vermonters. When feeling sad and confused and scared, I look out at the ancient volcanoes that range across my homeland and know that all things pass but what is good and solid will endure for a very long time. Much longer than me and my small concerns. It is both humbling and uplifting. And when things are too overwhelming, I can walk out my back door and climb above it all.

I am grateful for winter squash. What genius took the fleshless and flavorless gourd and turned it into such a variety of luscious and hearty fruits! And so easy to grow, to store, to cook into a thousand savory meals. If I had a time machine, I would go back to that time of experimentation and hand them an empanada in thanks and as evidence of the wild success of their endeavors.

I am grateful for my sons, as all mothers are. My boys remind me that I have done something good in this life, or at least set it in motion. They are funny, clever, wise, and startlingly unfamiliar at times, me and yet not me. But they are unfailing friends, people I can always count on. There is no higher commendation. (They also remind me that it is not men…)

I am grateful for stories and that I have learned to read them in so many languages. The stories of stone and water. The stories of trees and vestigial limbs. The stories of hearthside and kettles, quilts and rag rugs. The stories of quiet peoples who do incredible things and expect no thanks or lauds.

I am grateful for beauty. I do not believe in infinity, and yet the capacity in this universe to produce a seemingly endless kaleidoscope of spellbinding, astonishing beauty does give one pause.

I am grateful for the people who get out of bed at two in the morning and drive in miserable weather just to plow the snow, for the people who keep the water clean and flowing even in ice storms, for the people who stay up all night to care for sick strangers, for the people who stop and help when you are stuck, for the people who wash the dishes after a celebration, for all the true heroes within humanity.

I am grateful for endings.

---

Have you noticed that these sorts of lists never include presidents? They rarely include wealth and status. We might enjoy our new cars and vacations, but those things are not often numbered among the reasons to be grateful. This is not merely because we are embarrassed to be so crass… though that is part of it, and a revealing part. Because we know that these things that we strive after in this culture are not that important, and when we interrogate ourselves we find that we really don’t want them, much less feel any gratitude for their being. How much better would we live if we lived in pursuit of the things we are grateful for! You could do worse than build a culture centered on our Thanksgiving table litanies.

---

©Elizabeth Anker 2024