Be conscious of your treasures

“The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you.” – John E. Southard

Cranberry_canIn the U.S., this week marks our Thanksgiving holiday. A vegetarian, there will be no turkey on my table, but plenty of that congealed cranberry sauce from a can, the kind that retains the can imprint, those rippled rings of can-ness, the kind unadulterated by whole berries, just that smooth oasis of jiggle, whole slices of jell, a metal can full of love. I am addicted to it.

Sure, I can indulge in the more sophisticated whole berry route when required, and I’ve even made some whole berry sauce in a few weak moments, but Mr Brilliant knows the real way to my heart is a simple 16 oz. can of the jellied stuff. Slicing it is so peculiarly satisfying, like I am a renowned cranberry surgeon, precise in my measurements between ring lines, adept at sliding the tube out whole, without dings or divets to mar the slick surface, then dissecting it with impunity, a veritable Christiaan Barnard or Francis Robicsek or Benjamin Carson of jellied. But perhaps that is enough about cranberry sauce.

I’m thinking we’ll add Sissy’s corn pudding, some veggie stuffing, perhaps a veggie roast or Tofurky just because I love to say the name of it, some green beans, whatever else I can cook on stems or while on a couch with my ankle higher than my heart, a big pie with a homemade crust appropriately bought from the Sisters McMullen Bakery since I consider their home my home when such an equation meets my unbaking needs.

Cranberry_sauce_adAs I prepare for this holiday, it occurs to me that the center of it ought to be thankfulness. Is it? Or does the day simply mean football (and, seriously, who cares about that since Johnny U stopped playing…) and Tryptophan turkey comas and pre-holiday sales and Santa anticipation? What if we all revisited thankfulness instead?

A few years ago, my friend Lee and I each started writing a gratitude journal each night, a brief listing of 5 things we were grateful for that day. It transformed days into happiness-seeking events—we looked for things to be grateful for, then listed them each night. Sunsets became fodder for listing, as did a perfect latte, or even an imperfect one. Rain wasn’t an inconvenience, but a giver of life in this system of gratitude.

I realized in this process that I see what I am looking for. When I was selected as a teenager to go as an AFS Exchange Student to Sri Lanka, for example, I had never, ever, ever heard of that country. But in the months before I left for this new adventure, I saw the words “Sri Lanka” everywhere – where we place our attention is where things surface. If I am looking for things to complain about, I will find them. If I am looking for things to be grateful for, those will emerge.

It is this spirit of gratitude that I want to embody this Thanksgiving. I think it changes everything. And just as it is easy to love lovable people and harder to love unlovable ones, I believe it is easy to be thankful for the good things in life: it is much harder to reframe life’s difficulties. But that’s where the payoff comes. After all, as H.U. Westermayer reminds us, “The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more impoverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.”

Cranberry_sauce_ocean_sprayIn such a world of thanksgiving, a death becomes a new way of living in relationship, a loss of income becomes an opportunity to follow your real desire line, a broken heart becomes a way into deep emotion. Let me try: Traveling too much…allows me to meet amazing people like Yaron and the magical man named David who I met on a small regional jet from Cincinnati one fine day. Walking on stems for six months…is teaching me to ask others for help, one of my hardest lessons (thanks, Ron, for this valuable reframing!). Tiny cash flow problems (not that I know anything about this, but I’ve read about it)…enhance my creativity. Not yet having enough work to sustain my new business (again, I’ve just read about it)…allows me the time to write the Great American Novel.  When I got fitted for my 110-pound fracture boot recently, I must have looked despondent on the ride home. “Look on the bright side,” Mr. Brilliant piped up, ignoring my Evil Sideways Glance, “when you stopped your fall with your hands, you could have broken both wrists.” It made me laugh, this sudden reframing.

David-of-that-chance-airplane-meeting recently wrote that what we are left with in this world is what we can do for each other—I was struck by the beauty of his statement. Are we doing enough for one another? Are we thanking people for what they are doing?

Years ago now, too many years ago, one of my favorite professors died. It was a death that was a year in the making and I took that year to thank him, to say in certain (not uncertain) terms what he had taught me, what I had learned from him, how much – how utterly and completely much – I had loved knowing him and laughing with him over the years since college. I told him how I would always remember him. His letters to me and mine to him over that year buoyed us both; it felt good to say thanks rather than to wait until he couldn’t hear it. He was a treasure I will never let go of. Who are your treasures? Do they know it?

This Thanksgiving, I want to get even with those who have helped me, some in ways they could not know, people who have reframed things for me, caught me when I was falling, taught me things, even those few who have shown me who I don’t want to be, who I’m glad I’m not, even.

~*~ 37 Days: Do it Now Challenge ~*~

Cranberries_1My much-loved jellied cranberry sauce begins with individual cranberries, just as our lives are flavored by individual people who help us; we hand one another along. Who are the people handing you along? Give thanks. As in, give it away. Show it. Tell it.

Thornton Wilder has written that “We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. “

Be conscious of your treasures; let them know. Who has helped you in your life?—that fourth grade teacher, that astronomy professor, that college friend who keeps teaching you about life, those Gubes, those Marshall Sisters, that Smarty Butt and Pretty Boy, those significant writing teachers, Sweet Sweet Tina and Big John, those brilliant students who become friends, that Israeli tank commander, the friends who bring you a whole dinner in a basket, the wise and caring Kiwi, the kindest Stockton man, all those fantastic W2W women, that pixie man in Jemez who makes you laugh, that forester, the farm boy from Nebraska, the dorodango master, the new friend in Santa Fe with the open face and heart, those fantastic interculturalists each July, those readers who buoy you with their comments, the mailman who always gives Tess stickers when we go to the post office, the irreplaceable friend from Tokyo, “sisters” from Dusseldorf and Pita Kotte, those starlights like Billy Collins, that amazing woman in Ft. Dodge, that bagger at Ingle’s grocery store who always separates and double bags your freezer items, your Mama, those wise daughters, that irreplaceable Mr Brilliant, and so many more – tell them all this week. Don’t delay. We all know that tomorrow might not come; some day, it will be too late. And then what?

Create a list of 37 people who have helped you and write just one or two sentences that captures the gift they have given you, as in “Thank you for always catching me when I’m falling,” or “Thank you for teaching me to appreciate poetry,” or “Thank you for knowing what to say when I don’t” or even “Thank you for teaching me how to read” or “Thank you for always being so cheerful when I come to the post office” or “Thank you for changing how I see turbulence or “Thank you for helping me overcome my fear of spiders.” Then contact them this week by email, a letter, a call, just to say thanks and tell them how they have helped you.

Do it before the Tryptophan kicks in.

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About Patti Digh

Patti Digh is an author, speaker, and educator who builds learning communities and gets to the heart of difficult topics. Her work over the last three decades has focused on diversity, inclusion, social justice, and living and working mindfully. She has developed diversity strategies and educational programming for major nonprofit and corporate organizations and has been a featured speaker at many national and international conferences.

26 comments to " Be conscious of your treasures "
  • Patti-

    This is truly a wonderful post to read…even if I am completely repelled by Tofurky. I love the suggestion of contacting 37 people as well… and am writing up my list right now.

    Dan

  • I, too, love that jiggly tube of cranberry goodness. Thank you for reminding me of your ‘desire lines’ post, one of my favorites. As usual, your challenge is just what I need right now. Okay, I’ll start here:

    #1 – Thank you, Patti, for once a week making me think and feel deeply. For reminding me of that which I already know, but have so easily and conveniently forgotten. For jolting me back to the realization that to lead any semblance of a fulfilled life, my world view must expand beyond the area between my ears. For making me grateful for this extraordinary ‘place’ called the blogosphere.

    Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

  • Cj Markovic

    Hi Patti-

    Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family!

    My name is Carolyn and I’ve been a fan/lurker of your blog for about 4 months, hailing just outside the District, in McLean. I happened on to your blog via “Viaggiatore’s Blog,” where she’s listed you as one of her links….you’re her first in line!!

    I’ve gone on to introduce your blog to my two sisters and only brother, along with several friends and family. Like you; we lost our father,( who truly was the “wind beneath our wings”) in Jan. 2003 to the same insidious disease; lung cancer.

    He’d quit smoking 25 years earlier, became a healthy “life-lover.” He was fun,smart, athletic, spiritual, passion filled and shared with us, the best “love story” ever: the one he lived; with our mother.

    The four of us were lucky to have had one of the finest~~~father, teacher, role-model, friend and so much more….of whom we lost selfishly, far too early; at age 65.

    I too, served as my father’s “morphine-administrator” on his last day; to palliate his “cross over” while at home, with no less that 40 (probably more, big family on both sides)loved ones around him.

    I’m not medically trained beyond ER or Grey’s Anatomy—Grey’s hadn’t even aired. I was simply guided by a few family medics and hospice care, to be the one- his first born-ministering my father into transition; on to closure. It was an honor that no longer haunts. It was surreal and now, almost four years later, I’d offer even beatiful; witnessing the full circle of life come into completion as we all gathered around him, singing one of his favorite songs:”Let There Be Peace On Earth.” None of this planned and although I’m born into a musical family, it was my sister, next in line after me; the least musical of all of us, (dance is her forte, among many other talents) who led us in song at that moment.

    So perhaps you’d understand, why initially, we connected to your blog, but it’s your intellect, wit, humor, sensitivity, passion and insight that shines through your prose; bringing us so much more!!

    Know this Patti Digh—you are loved, by many; without doubt, but you now have 20+ new readers whose lives you affect and inspire as of recent. We love you Patti, and in keeping with the spirit of your holiday post: “Be Consious of Your Treasures,” I break from lurkdom, to offer you thanks! You are most cool, a treasure and like “Viaggiatore;” as mentioned in her blog, you are: “the woman I want to be, when I grow up”…. and to Ms. V, should you read this, I hope you don’t mind my barrowing your “Patti” quote.

    BTW, I was hoping to make your 1st “37 Days Retreat” and to have met both you and Ms. V, who I realized was your Italia attendee, but life and perhaps a bit of wall-flower shyness got in the way. Boo on me.

    I’m also having my grandparent’s 19th century square grand piano restored in Ashville. It’s there now, I was their 1st grandchild of 12; they too, have crossed over and I’ve been granted the priveledge of inheritance of this amazing instrument.

    Never been to Ashville, new to blogshpere, don’t yet, have a blog of my own; this is a first step….. my virgin comment.

    My apologies to your other readers who’ve had to endure my gush, but I just had to reach out, connect, offer thanks and to let you know Ms. Digh—you really matter!!

    Cheers with gratitude and best wishes for full recovery from your most recent calamity. Ouch!

    I’m also with you on congealed, jellied sauce, sans whole berries.

  • Patti, you did it again.

    I’ll echo much of Carolyn’s spirit and wish you and yours a thankful holiday!

    Oh, I like the sauce too, but I prefer the berries.

  • Sally

    For our family, as my brothers and sister and I reached “maturity” (HAH!), Thanksgiving became the real holiday. More often than not, we were all together that day, not at Christmas. Not being an overly religious family, it was natural that our own brand of spirituality focused on this day of thanks. To think of Thanksgiving, I see my father making a teary-eyed toast, happy to be with each of us, sending loving glances to the other end of the table to our dear mom. This will be the second of this holiday that she will not grace our table — physically, anyway. Every day I feel the heartfulness she left behind. We will happily make the recipes she loved, toast her memory, and fill our souls with the wonderfulness of all who will gather ’round the turkey my husband cooks; the smashed potatoes, scrumptious green beens and double-baked sweet potatoes my sister cooks up; the whole-berry cranberry sauce my sister-in-law concocts; the creamed onions from family friends; and the pumpkin, key lime and rhubarb pies from yours truly, my two stepdaughters and my niece. And we’ll laugh when my little girl joins in the conversation and my baby boy smears the cranberry sauce.

    P.S. In an off-blog note yesterday, I mentioned chicken soup to you. Forgive my forgetfulness that you are vegetarian….

    Happy tofurkey day!

  • Good idea. Apply the red shoe principle to thankfulness. Practicing Mahalo, the Hawaiian value of living and working in thankfulness sounds even better than the slurp of cranberry gel coming out of can.

    37 people to be thankful to sounds like a good focus for Christmas cards note, customizing to specific praise and letting them know why they’re appreciated. :)

  • Cj Markovic

    Hi Patti and Fellow Readers~
    I’m embarrassed and so need to apologize, for having not “previewed-before-posting,” my first ever public blog comment. Ugh.. to find it this morning, loaded with phat-fingered typos and even worse, blatant spelling faux pas…. is humiliating!

    Waking up in the middle of the night, imbibing green tea and feeling brave with inspiration, to post at that hour, publicly no less; not one of my brighter moves. To skip the chance for preview and further, to neglect use of the trusty spell-checker…very dumb!

    Humbly, I close with a plea, I’m normally a reasonable speller,even won my 7th grade “Bee;” I promise to do better next time.

    Cheers once again, with tail appropriately between my legs–Cj

  • Dear Carolyn –

    Your note really moved me. Thank you so much for writing. I’m gratified to know that you and your family are finding words of comfort in these pages. Thank you for telling me that – your description of your time with your father is gorgeous and telling – it says much about him and about you and your family, too. It links into a post I’ve been trying to write for weeks, too, so I appreciate the catalyst you’ve provided.

    I’m truly humbled by your kind words – and I’d invite you to join us at the next 37days retreat. The first one was magical beyond words.

    Thanks so much for writing. For this, your occasion for speech, we’re all thankful.

    Peace,

    Patti

    P.S. What typos? I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about. As a community here on 37days, we are so intent on sense-making that spelling is completely irrelevant. ;-)

  • Pearl – thanks for your note and happy thanksgiving! what is the “red shoe principle?”

  • steve – this thanksgiving, i’m thankful to have “met” you – your support and kind words and thoughtfulness and energy are a real gift. thank you!

  • Dan – Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a bit repelled by Tofurky too! Thanks for your note – and good luck with that list!

  • Marilyn – you are so wonderful. the energy behind your words never ceases to amaze me – thank you. I’m so happy to have “met” you – your support buoys me.

  • John

    Well, now that another of PD’s little secretive secrets is out for all the blogosphere to see, I can share the sleight of the upcoming centerpiece for our Christmas dinner–a bust of Patti done entirely in the goodness that is congealed Ocean Spray cranberry sauce. This will also make it less obvious when I try to make the plaster cast of Patti’s head. I hope.

  • Sally – I loved, LOVED the description of your family gathering and while I mourn your loss, I also celebrate your mom’s ongoing presence there. Plus, you made me very hungry for smashed potatoes and creamed onions. And, I might add, strawberry-rhubarb pie is my absolute favorite in the universe. Followed by chocolate chess pie from Topolobampo in Chicago. Cook on! Thanks for your evocative image of your holiday meal…!

  • Ah! Mr Brilliant himself has spoken! It’s too bad that I lost my camera because a photo of my head sculpted in jellied cranberry sauce might be just what this blog needs… You, my dear boy, are insane. In a very cute way.

  • The red shoe principle is a term I heard for what you are talking about of Sri Lanka. Never having heard of something before, it seems unique but once you are primed to see it, it is positively everywhere.

  • I love the quote by Mr. Southard…all so true.

  • Among my blessings this year, I am grateful for having found this place, where I always read something that makes me think or laugh or cry or nod in recognition-and sometimes all of the above at once.

    Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours, Patti.

  • Wow! I have tears in my eyes and laughter in my heart as I read this post AND the comments! What an amazing place to come on this dreary Okanagan day! I knew something was missing in my life these past few days, but couldn’t determine what… GRATITUDE!!! Goodness me, how could I drop that virtue without noticing… THANK YOU so much, dear Patti, for everything you are right now: authentic, unafraid of real life, flung wide open heart full of the cranberry goodness of life…
    I am making my 37 people-to-thank list today and not stopping until my heart is overflowing with the goodness of my OWN life. Might even reach 137!!
    Words positively fail me when I try to express how much yours {words} mean to me. You touch places in me that I’m completely unaware of, and then just like Pearl’s red shoe, that new internal frontier begins to heal and life gets clearer and deeper and truer… You are a real honest-to-goodness treasure in my world. thank you SO much.

  • Dear Patti…another wonderful post and call to action. I will start making my list and sending out those notes of thanks. That is something I also regularly practice in the moment – thanking people – for their love, advice, friendship, kindness. Gratitude is a year-round, life long endeavour.
    Enjoy that jellied delight (my husband loves it too, but I’m a whole berry kind of gal!) and best wishes for a Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.
    Much peace, JP

  • mary-sue, thank you for your flung wide open note! your kind words are so much appreciated, today and always. thank you so much, too!

  • JP – I snuck a little cranberry jelly love tonight in training for tomorrow…thanks for your note – you’re so right – gratitude is a life long endeavor and most potent when most difficult… happy thanksgiving!

  • rebekah – i loved that quote, too! thanks for your note!

  • the stems sound humbling, a gift
    and patience inducing -another gift
    and oh the gratitude for walking and compassion for those who do not take that for granted as a given in life. An something to look forward to – when they are gone- all that from a fall- not bad.
    You’re brave to admit liking that odd red lumpy gel from a can- many like it – few admit it and glorify it so- haha
    Happy thanks filled day
    thank you for sharing your gifts here

  • Grace – the stems are, indeed, humbling. They are providing a perspective I evidently needed. It was a fall with Big Lessons, you are absolutely right. Thanks for your insightful note!

    And there is relief in owning my cranberry jellied passion. Or, as little Tess says, “I love jealous!”

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