Live blogging Thanksgiving

OK, not really.  But the day did get off to a nice start.  Fed the dogs and got back in bed, then they dug under the covers on both sides of me and fell asleep while I used my iPhone to read email, blogs, the Bible (Titus 3 — love it!) and my prayer list (the “My Prayer List” app).   Sweet!  Wish I could start every day that way.

Hope you all have blessed days with friends and family, and that counts for everyone who visits — even those with, uh, limited commenting privileges. 

Remember, there needs to be an object of your thanksgiving.  Otherwise, who are you thanking?  An old friend who became rich and famous thanked the universe for his success.  I’m sure the universe really appreciated his gratitude.

I’m thanking God — the one true God revealed in scripture.  If I never receive another blessing I’ve still received far more than I deserve or would dare ask for.

0 thoughts on “Live blogging Thanksgiving”

  1. It’s amazing how viewing everything as a blessing and that it is far more than we deserve, it really does make you thankful for everything. Which in turn really should make us much more pleasant people.. When Im not being pleasant.. I realize Im not being very thankful. Thank you Neil for your friendship and of course the referral to the iPhone prayer lists app 🙂

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  2. Neil said: Remember, there needs to be an object of your thanksgiving. Otherwise, who are you thanking?

    I liked what a meditation teacher of mine said about gratitude: she’d been saying how she was grateful to be largely free of her usual chronic pain that morning, for the warm sun on her old bones, etc. Then, “someone said to me yesterday, ‘isn’t gratitude dualistic — ME being grateful TO someone or something?’ Well, the words might make it seem that way; words bewitch. But really gratitude is just a space opening up and filling with love.” In that broad warmth there’s no me or you or it; gratitude is the joy and tenderness, rather, when these conceptual structures crumble. It’s a taste of one’s own undivided nature, which is also the nature of the dewy morning and the sun and dandelion. Life is unknowably large and inventive, yet it’s nothing but oneself. One feels humble before the hugeness and unknowableness, but the humbleness and the largeness are both the play of one only. Says Rumi, “I am so small I can barely be seen. How can this great love be inside of me? … Look at your eyes: they are small, but they see enormous things.”

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    1. But really gratitude is just a space opening up and filling with love

      Not at all, unless you are just making up new words.

      Poetic sounding words that don’t make sense aren’t helpful.

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      1. Well it either hits you or it doesn’t. “A space opening up and filling with love” is a close observation of what’s actually happening in a moment of gratitude, where the characters in the little thought-play “gratitude” — the mental picture of me the grateful person, of that to which/whom I’m grateful — are secondary and pasted-on to the spontaneously blossoming love itself, which has no me or you. The love transcends its occasion, it’s really the ever-present possibility of openness to anything, it’s one’s own nature before conceptual divisions of the world. Pure gratitude (as opposed to indebtedness) may play with, but doesn’t really belabor, the conceptual forms of “me” and “you.” It’s just tender rejoicing, intimacy.

        And c’mon, poetic *sounding*? Even a bit more polite would have been to leave that second word out. A little white lie. 🙂 Anyway, as far as I’m concerned that was all straight, bland reportage.

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      2. On second thought, I really shouldn’t be critiquing poetry at all. Not my forte. In a freshman honors English class I had to write about a poem. I whipped out a paper and thought it was fine. The teacher went on at length (in front of the class, though not mentioning me by name) about how awful it was and how I missed the most obvious imagery.

        She was right.

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      3. I had a Shakespeare professor who would glare at everyone while they answered his questions, furiously tapping his pencil on the table till he could jump in and rip them to shreds. When one young woman paused before answering, he spat out, “you look so VACANT.” She took it with apparent equanimity, thankfully.

        He was pretty good on Shakespeare. I think he actually made attempts to be tolerant, he was just sooo nervous and his reactions so whiplash quick.

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      4. My teacher wasn’t that bad. She was actually pretty easy going. I think the quality of my poetry analysis was just so horrid that she couldn’t help herself. Hope you were able to learn something in spite of that guy’s teaching style!

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