Tomorrow, as we have been doing for the past thirty-five years, Susie
and I head
to a farm about twelve miles from here to enter into a caloric comatose with
our dear
friends. Susie is in the kitchen preparing her magnificent spinach dip for our
Thanksgiving food overdose. I'm here with a glass of delicious wine thinking
about
something a young professor told me during a between-sessions schmoozing
conversation at
the Lilly conference. "That's there to be really thankful for these days," he
sighed.
What, indeed. Well, the Ivory Tower is certainly threatened, and perhaps
endangered, by
the uncertainties of the economy. At the Lilly conference a perceptible pall
hung over
the attendees. The talk invariably turned to furloughs, pink slips, absence of
raises,
budget cuts, increased class sizes, hiring freezes, and so on and on and on.
So, why do I nevertheless give thanks? Is it because we have a good
income,
medical insurance, and a secured retirement? Is it because we have dear
friends who are
family to us? Is it because of our two sons, their wives, and our three
grandmunchkins?
Yes, to all those questions. But, it's not really a question of pretending that
everything is bright and beautiful when we know its not. For me, to give
thanks is to
ride the stormy seas and declare that it's still worth being a teacher. To give
thanks is
not because all things are good or easy or bountiful, but simply because I know
that this
troubled world with all its evil and all its good, with all of its ups and all
of its
downs, teaching is still meaningful, purposeful, and significant. To give
thanks is to be
mindful of what is swirling about with "losing" your mind, to be informed
without being
numbed, to be alert without being paralyzed, and to bend without breaking.
This year, in the face of furloughing, absence of raises, and the
impending
appearance of very uneducational 350 student herd-like mega-classes here at
VSU, my
spirit, my soul, my heart, my will required me to remember. To be sure,
remembering my
vision in the face of the clouds that would otherwise obscure that vision is an
act of
will; it's an act of faith; it's an act of strength; it's an act of refreshment
and
flourishment; it's an act of determination, perseverance, and commitment. To
forget is an
act of disconnect. Feeling despondent saps and deenergizes. Feeling weary and
faint of
heart is losing hope. Feeling resigned is an act of surrender. Feeling
anxious takes out
the fun. Feeling resentment is hobbling. Feeling insecure is to falter in
the service,
in the loving-kindness, of others. Feeling self-pity is not to tenderly
cherish.
The problem for many of us, too many of us, is that we have allowed the
process of
counting our blessings to deteriorate into the habit of counting upon our
blessings. We
are proud, rightly proud, of our titles, positions, tenure, and resume. But now
we are
anxious, overly anxious, to maintain our privileges and power. We are proud,
rightly
proud, of our personal achievements, but we are anxious, overly anxious, to
maintain an
image of success. When the act of counting our blessings leads to the anxious
condition of
counting upon our blessings then it is extraordinarily difficult to be
grateful.
No, while I cannot control circumstances, I can control how I react and
respond to
those circumstances. I believe that Thanksgiving is about remembering.
Gratitude is
attitude, and that makes it more than an American festivity. For me, that
means having my
empowering words constantly and unconditionally in front of my mind's eye and
my heart's
eye: hope, faith, belief, empathy, kindness, compassion, respect, connectedness,
otherness, awareness, awakeness, optimism, renewal, and, above all, love. I
have to do
more than speak these words. I have to soak them into my spirit, my heart, my
thoughts,
and my actions. I have to become one with them. I have to declare them to
others, show
them, and live them. As I do that, meaning, purpose, and significance steady
me. I never
run scared; I don't totter and lose my balance; I don't waiver and lose my
sure-footedness; my confidence is not shaken; I handle whatever comes along; I
smile; I am
kind; I respect; I stay the course; I move gracefully; I feel comfortable in my
own skin.
I know I'm making it. And, as I am those words and those words are me, I move
from merely
making an effort to be thankful to the kind of thankfulness thats so much a
part of who
I am and what I do
In that spirit, Susie and I wish each and every one of you and your
families a
very happy giving thanks day. May you see that the negativity around you is
just weather
that will pass. May you see all the sweet, the beautiful, the loving, the
abundant, and
the joyful possibilities in your life. And, may you experience all the
blessings of a
grateful heart.
Make it a good day.
--Louis--
Louis Schmier http://www.therandomthoughts.com
Department of History
http://www.therandomthoughts.edublogs.org
Valdosta State University
Valdosta, Georgia 31698 /\ /\ /\ /\
(229-333-5947) /^\\/ \/ \ /\/\__/\ \/\
/ \/ \_ \/ / \/
/\/
\ /\
//\/\/ /\
\__/__/_/\_\ \_/__\
/\"If you want to climb
mountains,\ /\
_ / \ don't practice on mole
hills" -
---
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