Thankful

I don’t usually preface poetry with anything, but I felt like a little explanation was needed.

It’s supposed to be easy to be thankful, isn’t it? Most years, I approach this time of year with nothing but a grateful heart. There is so much I should be thankful for, even this year. But, I’m having a hard time finding that spark this year. I am…appreciative. I am grateful for the lessons I’ve learned this year. I am glad I am still here, still surviving. A year that could have, should have, and did break me did not defeat me. There is much to be happy about and much that I still have: good friend, maybe the best year of theater (on stage) that I’ve had in years, my dream job…and still, I’m looking at this season and thinking…okay. It’s all just ok.

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Tempered Thankfulness

The season to reflect and remember settles around us
As we collectively look back on another year and find
The moments of joy in the midst of the heartbreak
The sparks of creativity in the doldrum of the ordinary
The people who have inspired and molded and shaped our days

The question is asked, time and time again,
Around dinner tables covered with food and
In living rooms and restaurants and family gathering spaces
“What are you thankful for this year?”

It’s a question that has always been easy
There has always been so much to celebrate
Love and laughter and joy and new adventures
Quiet nights and exciting days and friends that are like family

But something thankfulness is in short supply
And gratitude looks more like simply showing up
Making it through a year of chaos and pain
Still standing, even when your back hurts and your shoulders hunch

Giving thanks looks less like prayers or praise
And more like stubborn determination to not give up
Words that came easy get caught in your throat
It takes work to find the things worthy of praise

Thankfulness is there, maybe, but hidden
Behind the heartbreak of a broken life
Behind the loss of friends and family
Behind the absence of community you once knew

All at once your definition changes
Your expectations are tempered
The pressure you put on yourself eases
And you realize:

Thankfulness sometimes looks like
Getting up again, even when it’s hard
Smiling, even when the tears are streaking your face
Laughing, even when your very center finds joy illusive

Giving thanks looks like
Allowing new friends into your heart, even if you’re terrified they’ll leave you, too
Refusing to give up, when your very soul is tired of fighting
Knowing that even after the darkest storms, there is a promise of light

And your thankfulness doesn’t seem so forced
It’s tempered by what you’ve endured
And it’s shaped by the new story you’re writing
But you’re here. You’re here. You’re here.

And you close your eyes and once again find the strength
To give thanks.