Thanksgiving, 2015

                  Finding Thankfulness and Gratitude in My Life

            “Thankfulness is the beginning of gratitude.  Gratitude is the completion of thankfulness. Thankfulness may consist merely of words.  Gratitude is shown in acts.”

 –Henri Frederic Amiel, Swiss philosopher

            The harvest is in, the garden has been put to bed, and the weather has turned cold.  The days are growing shorter; winter has arrived. It is the season of a comfortable chair, a warm blanket, a mug of tea and a good book. 

            It is also a time of being thankful and grateful.  At Thanksgiving, we gather around the table, sharing food and companionship.  It is a time of quiet celebration.

            Thanksgiving is a quiet, contemplative holiday with few expectations.  Simply being together and sharing a meal is all that the holiday seems to require of us.  Oh, and the obligatory giving of thanks. In the rush towards the consumerism and frenzy of Christmas, it seems easy to slide right by this time of giving thanks, and plunge into the next holiday. 

            And, when we do that, we forget to pause and reflect, and to be truly thankful.

            The real holiday, the real celebration this week is a time to go inward, to truly appreciate what we have in our lives, and how we are to live, to truly be children of God.  Thanksgiving is all about love, in all of its dimensions.

            This year there is much to be thankful for: the necessities of life, purposeful work, time with friends and family, health, and being able to serve, to be of service.

            People in my life this year have achieved much.  One friend is moving into a new home, his first, very own, this is really mine, home.  A year ago, he was adrift, unemployed, unsure of himself.  Today, due to his hard work and his belief in all of his possibilities, he has a rich, purposeful life.

            Another friend is casting aside distractions and old misery, and healing old wounds.  He’s taking charge, doing healthy things, putting his life in order.

            Another friend passed a test in school.  He conquered his fears, his self doubts; he has conquered his sabotage of a future of rich possibilities.  He is ready to move on, and he has shown to himself that he can grow, and learn, and be successful.  He has climbed his own mountain, and can believe in himself.

            I am recharging my own creative energies. I am writing a serious book that gives voice to those who are less fortunate. I am immersing myself in creating music and art, and being an advocate for others.  I am pausing to look at the beauty of the world, in this very moment, to appreciate who I am and where I am going.

All this is scary, terrifying work.  What if I actually accomplish what I dream? Are there really no barriers, no limits to what I can accomplish, if I put my mind and my soul into the effort?  I might be successful? Me? But, then I will have to take on even greater challenges, and be responsible for my effort. Really? Little old me? 

            Yes, me.  I am the one.  I am the one who can change the world, one little step at a time.  Changing the world is really my job.  And, I can do it. 

            We all have our obstacles.  And we are all capable of success, and believing in our strengths, our possibilities. 

I am a citizen of the world and I pay attention, I learn, and I try to apply my energies and my awareness to being an instrument of positive change.

We live in troubled times.  Yet that has also been true in years past.  Every generation has faced that challenge, and had to answer that question, can I really accomplish my dream?

I choose to be an agent of change, and to not retreat into silence and indifference. I believe we are called to respond and to act, to be proactive, to be God’s instruments of change.

Maybe I can’t wave my magic wand and achieve world peace. But, I can move in that direction.  I can bring myself and my work into a state of constructive peacefulness.  I can work to nurture that energy into my family, my neighborhood,  and my community.  

I can make a difference.

I can join with other like-minded people, and consistently do good works. 

Each of us is a peace-maker.  Peace making has to start somewhere. 

“Let there be peace on Earth and let it begin with me,” the song says.

We all have our story.  Be a listener, and hear someone speak their truth,

perhaps for the first time. Let everyone’s story be told, and be heard.

Each of us can do an act of kindness and compassion.   Pay an act of kindness forward. Buy a stranger a coffee, help an elderly person with a package, talk to a friend, visit the sick, the lonely, the imprisoned.  Maybe bring a meal to a sick neighbor.  Volunteer. 

Strike up a conversation while waiting at the grocery store check out.  Ask the clerk how they are doing and listen to their answer. Hear them, deeply and compassionately.  Hug a friend who seems upset, lost, without hope.

In any of that work, there is kindness and compassion.  You are giving of yourself, and you are showing others how to be human, how to be kind and loving.

            “Be the change you want to see in the world,” Mahatma Gandhi said.

            Our example, just something simple, can change one person’s life.  And in that, we change the world.  We make our planet just a little better. 

            Isn’t that the Golden Rule? Isn’t that what the prophets, the scions of great religions have preached?  Isn’t that being an instrument of God’s love for every one of us?

            Each of us is special, unique.  We are here for a reason.  And, isn’t that reason to show love and compassion, to be kind, generous, thoughtful of others?  By our example, we show the way, we demonstrate how people should really live, how we really are the children of God. 

            Today, I give thanks, and I am grateful.  And, in my own, small way, I am making a difference, I am changing the world, one small act of kindness at a time.

                                    ---Neal Lemery, November 24, 2015

Learning Gratitude

Learning Gratitude

I always seem to learn my lessons in the most unexpected places.

This week, I was with a number of young men who are prisoners in my town.  They have long sentences, locked up for crimes they committed when they were anywhere from twelve to seventeen years old.  Their home lives were chaos, riddled with the violence, drugs, and sexual behavior that is the seed bed for most of our society’s woes, and the root of our country’s high rate of putting people in prison.  

Much of what we might think of as “normal” just not existing in their youth, before they came here.  And, many become abandoned by their families; no one comes to visit them.  So, a few of us come, to listen, to just show up in their lives.  

Rather than really dealing with those issues, society locks these boys up, without much regard for who they really are, the prison terms computed by a chart of numbers, devoid of any sense of compassion, or rationality.  

At least we can boast that we are “tough on crime”.  And, tough on souls.  

We are, after all, the leading country in the world as far as locking up our population.  Yes, more than Russia, more than China, and other places we think are oppressive, undemocratic countries.  The prison industry is growing, and is a significant chunk of our economy, eating up more tax dollars than what we spend on schools.

The subject of gratitude came up, as we talked about the real meaning of Thanksgiving, and how that holiday came to be part of our heritage and one of our biggest holidays, full of food, family time, and, yes, expressing gratitude.  

One by one, these young men spoke humbly of the things in life they were grateful for.  The list was long, and ran deep.  People who cared about them, support for their treatment for their sexually inappropriate behavior, their attitudes about drugs, violence, manipulation of others, degrading their own self worth, their work on getting an education, and improving their lives, and their relationships with their family.  

They also spoke of being thankful for getting in contact with their heritage, and finding a place in a culture that supported their sobriety, their healthy thinking, and their hunger for healthy, balanced, and emotionally satisfying lives, lives filled with purpose and decency.  They were finding their souls, moving into manhood whole and complete, their wounds healing.  

As I sat there, I recalled listening to the radio on my drive over to the prison, the “news” filled with the latest political sex scandal, and the latest celebrity drug and alcohol crazed dysfunctional public spectacle.  I’d come from the grocery store, where piles of cases of beer are arranged in recognition of this weekend’s big college football game, just before aisles of cheap Christmas decorations and gifts.

A billboard along the highway invited me to come gamble and drink on New Year’s Eve, and the usual gaggle of misfits stood outside of the local dive bar, smoking cigarettes and dealing a little weed and heroin.  

Yet, inside this prison, these young men calmly talked about how grateful they were for their lives, their sobriety, their hard work in dealing with their pasts, and the strengths and wisdom they now had in their lives.  They were strong men, preparing themselves for going back “outside”, into our crazy, addiction tempting society.

The midday boozers and smokers outside of the bar weren’t talking much about what they were grateful for, and gratitude wasn’t the focus of the talk show radio show that came on after the “news”.   

And, apparently, Thanksgiving doesn’t do much for the retail stores.  Gratitude and thanks and personal achievement aren’t something you can wrap up in paper, next to all the glitz and sparkle.  

I listened, listened hard to those young men, realizing that I really was in class, that I was the student and they were the teachers that day.  I go there to be a giver, an offerer; my role being a mentor, a teacher, a leader, a person of wisdom.  Yet, now they were the mentors, the teachers, the wise men imparting their truth, and their knowledge, their experience.  

Wisdom and gratitude were spoken, and I was grateful I took the time to open my heart and hear the truth tellers in my life.

--Neal Lemery 11/17/2012

Gratitude

Its been a bit over a year. Now, the workouts at the Y are no big deal. I walk up and down stairs without gasping for breath, and I can walk a couple of miles with not even a thought. I feel healthy, strong, even vibrant, with 25 pounds of lard now gone, and still fitting in my much smaller jeans.

The memories of my heart attack last February are still around, and I still take my regimen of pills twice a day. Mealtime is a place to ponder how I will nourish my body, and bring new nutrients into my amazing body, rather than a time to wallow in processed food, sugar and fat.

Today, I had to crank up the exercise bike and increase the weight size I was lifting, just to give myself a challenge, raise the heart rate a bit, and give my body a reason to break a sweat. Its nice to be “too successful” at this exercise stuff and be needing to “raise the bar” every couple of weeks.

I’ve actually worn out gym shoes, and the sweatshirt I wear to the Y as a symbol of my commitment to working out, is getting a bit frayed around the edges.

There’s been some amazing conversations with other people this year, where we talk about our recent heart attacks, the hospital care, and our cardiologists. We survivors become reverent as we talk and compare notes, sharing that special knowledge of how precious life is, and how quickly one can come so very close to dying.

We share that zeal for each day that we wake up and feel good, feet on the floor and full of energy. Being alive is not taken for granted. Having a healthy heart is a gift, and oxygen is our drug of choice.

I celebrate the small things now, like coffee with my wife in the morning, or the first daffodil of spring, or finding something really healthy and tasty to add to the menu.
We’ve done things this year that we’ve been thinking of putting off, but time is precious now. Life can be short, and life is to be enjoyed, each moment savored.

At the grocery store, I took a shortcut the other day and ended up in an unfamiliar aisle. Everything on the shelves was fat and sugar. I realized I hadn’t shopped in that aisle for over a year, and hadn’t missed it in the least. I shop around the edges of the store now, excited about finding great produce, or some nonfat yogurt, or some tasty new cereal.

I check out the vegetarian items on the menu at restaurants, and I’m not afraid to ask for substitutes for the fried, salty and sugary stuff that is the usual fare for meals.

And, I see other folks doing the same, and I’m finding more healthy stuff in the stores and in the restaurants. And, when the Y is crowded after work, part of me is happy that there’s actually a wait for the treadmills, or the leg press machine.

I spend a lot of time with friends now, taking in the chance meetings at the grocery store or on the sidewalk. I make it a point to connect with them, and share their joy in their creativity, their work, their passions.

Idle chitchat has become insufferable, and I rarely turn on the TV, finding instead that the evening is much better spent with my guitar, my writing, or enjoying a good book with a cat on my lap, and a mug of tea.

I’ve started mentoring a young man in prison, my Sunday afternoons well spent in his company, as he struggles to find his place in the world, and to learn how to socialize with a father figure who hasn’t beaten him, verbally abused him, or left him lost and frustrated with life’s possibilities. He’s teaching me a lot about courage and determination, and the excitement of learning that anything is possible in this life, if only we have the guts to take a step forward.

Gratitude. My gratitude is everywhere in my life. Every experience, every sunrise, every glass of wine shared with my wife in the kitchen as we talk about our days, every amazing experience that comes into my life is a precious gift. I take nothing for granted, and I am so very thankful.