Thanksgiving Pondering - 2016 November 24

Most Americans take a minute or two at the least on Thanksgiving to ponder what they are thankful for, the blessings in their lives, and so on.  I've had a day that I've anticipated.  Not that it was going to be something grand and remarkable, but that it would be planned, pleasant, enough.  I was fortunate to have a lot of time in solitude to consider things as they stand and ponder where they may go from here.  This is the result.

I've lived so fully, in depth and breadth in the last 33 years.  I've seen more sights, beautiful and horrific.  Seen the pain of poverty, the desperation and despair that can accompany it. Seen beautiful mornings on the river and caught deer as they crept out from the forest to go about their daily routines.  Been awed at the jungles of India and overwhelmed by the architecture of Paris.  I've seen friends grow families and friends that were destined to walk a darker road.  I've seen the wildest insects, mushrooms and goings on of nature, right outside my front door.  I've seen bravery and cowardice.  I've seen selflessness and I've seen brutality.  I've watched leaves change slowly, gently even.  I've seen dams flow forth with raw power, churning, bucking, forcing water into any open space.  I've seen so much that I couldn't have even imagined.  

I've smelled hot chai at 4am before casting off for a big adventure.  I've walked past bakeries, wet markets and now know the smell of jet fuel.  I've enjoyed the chaos of wet dog as it covered the interior of the truck.  I've enjoyed smells of flowers I didn't even know existed.  There is a whole world when your eyes are closed.  The smell of a river, the smell of someone you love, smells that comfort and cause fear.  

I've heard tigers snarl in thick brush.  I've heard the streets of New York that never stop.  I've heard gunfire, domestic disputes, arguments between elk as their horns clashed in the foggy morning light.  I've heard the honking of horns in India that fall silent when a cow is crossing the road.  I've heard the chatter of monkeys and the bare feet of children running on dirt roads.  I've heard 10s of thousands of hours of music ranging from small home concerts in backwoods America to musicians in Bangladesh, China, and South Africa.  I've heard rhythms so foreign and alluring I lingered longer than was necessary lest I never hear them again.  Conversely, I've heard the wind tear through forests of aspens, the trickle of water seeping through the smallest gap, the sound of bats swirling around me causing my senses to go into overdrive.  

I've felt the skin of elephants, bat wings brush my face, the mane of a lion.  The comfort of sleeping spine to spine with my dog.  I've felt hundreds of river rocks, trying to find the perfect one.  I've felt the wind whirling around me, knitting me back together as it rushed through the forest.  I've felt splinters of wood go where they were not intended, the drip of sweat warning me that something wasn't quite right.  I've felt the rawness of walking too many miles in the wrong boots because I had to know what was over the next ridge, around the next corner, down the trail.  I've felt the softness of a child's hand as they reach up to grab mine.  I've felt the roughness of weathered hands that have seen more labor, more toil, more struggle than I'll likely ever live.  I've felt the coldness of climbing gear early in the morning and the heat that comes from a small stove heating water for hot tea at the end of they day.  I've felt death and been fortunate to understand the intrinsic value to be found there.  

I've also felt emotions so deep, so intense, so euphoric, so painful and so exhilarating that I couldn't even comprehend how they were to be managed.  I've learned to let them flow.  I've learned to love so hard that you risk it all.  I've laid my heart bare.  I've been rocked and I would do it again in a heartbeat.  I've been the cruel injurer of hearts and this I do regret.  I've felt fear.  The increase in pulse, the slowing of breathing as you try to get things under control.  I've felt the fight with myself, with the world I live in.  I've felt the joy of freedom.  The joy of stepping out the front door and knowing the sun would still come up.  The breeze would still travel over my face.  I've felt letting go and I've felt finding again.  I've felt the universe coursing through my veins and the stark reality of being completely alone.  I've felt so hard that all pain, confusion, joy and exhaustion were erased.  It is such a gift to have the freedom of such a range of emotion.

So what is the point of addressing all these sensations?  What is the point of describing just the surface of the last 33 years?  I feel it's important to be thankful to experience it all.  To experience the balance of positive and negative, safety and risk, deep feeling and apathy.  We need it all to complete ourselves.  Without having held a duckling, we cannot fully appreciate the rough skin of an elephant.  Without knowing the smell of a wild back street market in Vietnam we cannot fully appreciate the smell of our family cooking our favorite breakfast on a Saturday morning.  Without hearing the desperate cries of a family that's just lost their child, you cannot fully appreciate the sweetness of a little girl dancing to the delicate notes of her father's flute in a parking lot sideshow.  Without seeing the devastation a flood brings on a community, you cannot fully appreciate the peace of a small campsite under a full moon on the river side.  

I'm not saying you have to travel the world to get enough experiences to fully experience the life you life day to day, but you need all of it, every experience in your life to understand the complexities.  You need the balance to see the value.  I'm not telling you to revel in the hard parts, the chaos, the pain, the confusion, but understand they have value.  Understand that we should be thankful for all the experiences. 

I would not be who I am today without so many very specific stepping stones.  Are there things I would have rather missed, not heard, seen, smelled, felt?  Of course, but looking back, they make me appreciate our world that is seemingly full of contradictions.  Try to be thankful for the complexities.  Try to live all of it to the fullest.  We really do only get one shot at this.  Better to look back, sigh and smile knowing you did it all.