Give Thanks (But First, Make Space)
MEDICAL AND MENTAL HEALTH UPDATE
If your inbox looks anything like mine today, it’s flooded with messages like “Give Thanks,” “Count Your Blessings,” and “Feel the Love” from every retail establishment you’ve ever patronized—from the Gap to Mattress Discounters.
It’s nice. I mean, I love striped socks and a good night’s sleep as much as the next person. And yeah, I’m grateful for them.
But does anyone else feel that right this moment, in the midst of a global pandemic, it can feel a little tough to practice gratitude on command? We’ve lost so much this year that most of us have to look a little harder to find joy and thanks.
The thing is, our feelings of gratitude are IN THERE, kicking around inside our brains whether we know it or not. They may just be sequestered beneath piles of worry about how much sugar we’ll eat this week, when your stuffy nose might warrant a COVID test, and whether our kids’ brains will rebound from months of TikTok and tense parents. Our mental inboxes are overflowing.
Worry is real. And for so many of us it is justified. We are sick and suffering and afraid. But worry can become a hobby, a past-time, a comfortably uncomfortable mental neighborhood to inhabit. Imagine your thoughts are a pumpkin pie. How big a slice is worry and fear?
My best advice today is this: close your eyes and imagine taking ALL of those worries and packaging them in a cardboard box (be sure to duct tape the hell out of that box so nothing slips out). And then ship that box off into the ETHER.
Worry can wait a minute. Worry can take a day off. Worry is occupying so much real estate in our brains right now that it can squelch our ability to appreciate the good stuff— the hope, the joy, the gratitude—despite the Gap’s best effort to remind us.
When we make room for gratitude, our stress hormones and our shoulders drop. We are calmer, more present, and better able to breathe. Our bodies and minds are healthier.
This Thanksgiving, I’m putting my own worry in a box. With less clutter, I can see more clearly what I’m grateful for: my fuzzy slippers, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, a crackling fire, the warmth of human connection, my dear family and beloved friends, and hope for the future.
And then there’s you, my dear readers. Thank you for being here with me. My heart is full.
Happy Thanksgiving! I’ll see you next week. Until then, be well.