Ways to Thanks-giving

When I was in Divinity School, I had a friend who hosted Thanksgiving. She gathered up many of us who were not away for the holiday for an incredible meal. Before eating, we all sat down and shared our gratitude. This could take almost an hour as each person shared an incredible list of thankfulness. (In fact, one year, I brought a written list so I wouldn’t forget anything!)

The spirit of the practice was meditative, as each person took as long as necessary to say whatever they needed while deliciously conjuring up the sources of their joy. While we waited to eat our feast, we fed upon true spiritual food. I can still remember the feeling of that full table, candles lit (food waiting in the oven to stay warm), surrounded by the faces of my friends. The atmosphere changed as we recited all our blessings. Just as the smells of the dishes filled the air, the gratitude had an aroma, a sweetness that enveloped the room.

I do miss that ritual. Now, with children hungry and tired and impatient and young, we scramble to say a quick thank you before we dive in, or we dive in first and give thanks while we eat. Generally, there is chaos, not meditation, and I often eat quickly so I can hustle the cranky baby up to bed.

I like the practice of sinking myself deeply into gratitude. And I like to see what comes up as a result. For me, one of the direct results of feeling blessed is the urge to bless others. Again, though, I come up with a stumbling block. I used to be able to spend hours on projects, on service, giving my time to others. With three small children and household and work demands, I sometimes feel I don’t have enough time even for us. This feels awful. I want to give a return for the bounty I have been given.

I know, however, that there are seasons to one’s life. Having young children doesn’t lend itself well to many and in-depth service projects. Which is why I spend a lot of time brainstorming small ways that I can be a blessing to others. I want to share these with you.

And, as tomorrow is the biggest shopping day of the season, I want to share them in the spirit of genuine giving—the sort that can be done even for those of us who may have little money and—sometimes!—little time.

Some little ideas for giving thanks back:

Call someone. Anyone is fine. Maybe someone who has gone through a hard time, lost a spouse or a parent or a child. Tell them you are thinking of them and loving them.

Send a card. Fill it with loving thoughts and words. Send it to someone who may not get much mail.

Cook a meal for a busy person, a parent, someone who works long hours, someone who doesn’t like to cook, or doesn’t often get home cooked meals. Drop it off. Or cook a meal and invite a friend over.

Pray to be helpful. Ask the Divine Spirit to put people in your path who you can help with your abilities and gifts—whatever they may be.

Hug someone, or many people, even if it feels a little awkward. Do you know that some people don’t get hugged at all! Find one of those people, and even if it is hard, hug.

Forgive your family members and relatives. A good Thanksgiving ritual. No need to do it out loud or make a big deal of it. Silently forgive while you share food by sending love.

Pray. Think of those who are hurting and see them well, whole, healthy and at peace.

Bypass the food bank. If you know someone in your community who goes without, and you know where they live, leave food for them, or money, or a small gift, like a gas card from the store.

Smile, especially when you don’t feel like it, and especially at those who may be frowning. You can think of this in the cyber world too. Put something uplifting on Facebook or another medium you use. Use technology to encourage.

Invite someone for a walk. Walks in beautiful places are the perfect, free gift. When the weather is nice, you can walk and share a picnic.

What ideas do you have?

Rev. Sam Wilde

Powerless=Powerful

At our home in Massachusetts, the power turned off last Saturday night around eight p.m. All around the branches creaked, cracked, thudded to the ground. The 13 inches of snow took the leaves of our cherry tree completely to the ground. Although we wouldn't know it that night as we snuggled in tight under our heavy covers, it would be six more complete days before the power restoration. As our house is in the woods and we have no wood stove, we would also have six days without running water or heat, as well as the usual comforts of lights and refrigerator.

It was a long, stressful week, bouncing from one friend's house to another. The children were cranky and confused and probably a little afraid. The roads were dangerous with downed wires and massive trees hung precariously across power lines. The house, when we came to check on it, became colder and colder, filling with the smell of a fridge full of food now gone sour and toilets flushed with buckets of water.

It was, admittedly, hard to keep a happy face. I had laundry to face and nowhere to do it, including a pile of soiled clothes from a child who kept having accident after accident. Not wanting to outstay our welcome anywhere, we spent afternoons driving in the car. This allowed the kids to nap.

It was frustrating and annoying and difficult, to be sure. In the midst of the powerlessness, however, shining pearls of truth dropped into our lives, like those heavy trees arriving with certainty to the ground. We connected with friends and neighbors whose hospitality and kindness carried us through our days. We had meals and conversations we never would have had otherwise, making a host of new memories, and for a week setting aside entirely the TV, the computer, even the phone.

What is the true power? I have always believed it is love--not the sentiment, but the lived, expressed verb of love. This is what we met in the faces of those who took in our family of five and housed us and fed us breakfast and shared with us a fellowship of common humanity.

I like electricity, of course. For all sorts of reasons. But I am grateful to have been reminded of the true power source in my life, in the lives of my children. The internet for all its marvels, does not connect us, nor the telephone, nor the television, nor the busy demands of a household with all its incredible machines. "Only connect," wrote E.M. Forester about a century ago. Our connections are precious treasures.

That first morning I found myself standing on my street, trapped. A tree down on one side, wires on the other. My cell phone had no signal. We had no water, no heat. From the houses around us emerged the neighbors I have spent years making connections with and I was no longer alone, nor was I trapped, nor was I without the essentials of life. To the contrary, in the most profound way, I had everything I needed.

Sometimes a disaster is truthful--and truth isn't a disaster, but a reminder of power in our lives. We truly do not live by bread alone, but in and through and with one another, find, discover, remind, and reclaim the Divine reflection, the indwelling divinity, Love expressed, the Love that needs no outlets, not motors, no wires, no repair.

--Rev. Sam Wilde