Jules posting here — and on behalf of Eisha. I don’t know if this is Eisha’s favorite holiday — Thanksgiving, that is — but I think it’s probably mine, because it’s the least commercialized and everyone’s not running around all insane trying to buy gifts for those distant (or not-so distant) relatives or co-workers or you-name-it whom they don’t even really like. Instead, you sit down with your friends and/or family or friends who are your family and feast and take a moment to be grateful for what you have. Aw, nice. You don’t have to be all obvious about it, all Tiny-Tim-God-Bless-Us-Everyone about it. Even if you yourself just pause in one quiet moment to take stock of your life’s joys, it’s a nice thing. So, happy Thanksgiving, and in honor of it, I’m going to share a piece of writing I stumbled upon that I had written down years ago in a journal — the words of Thoreau, writing to H.G.O. Blake, once a Unitarian minister, in December of 1856:
I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite — only a sense of existence. My breath is sweet to me. O how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches. No run on my bank can drain it, for my wealth is not possession but enjoyment.
If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance, like flowers and sweet-scented herbs — is more elastic, starry, and immortal — that is your success.
Now go eat up — lots of pie and Cool Whip. Yum.