The Fall season is my favorite time of the year. Here in the desert, it isn’t so much changing foliage that marks the season, so much as the smell of mesquite smoke, mild temperatures and snowbirds. It’s also the beginning of the holiday season, which will be very different this year for many. It’ll be about the same, for me, mainly because I’m not a huge fan of holidays dedicated to gluttony in honor of genocide. Thanksgiving has come, over the years, to mean something very different to me.
It’s a time for taking stock – of reflecting on the year past and contemplating the year to come. Not planning, so much as weighing possibilities. For me, it’s far less intimidating than having to make New Year’s resolutions that I’ll never keep. Most years aren’t like this one, however. It’s very difficult to find anything to be happy about after the last 47 months of 2020. I don’t think there are many who would argue this point, no matter what side of the mask-wearing debate they fall on.
These days, I’m trying to find the “defining moments” of each day, and for every negative example counter it with a positive one, no matter how insignificant or trivial. This is actually much harder than it seems, especially considering negative tends to be a default during times of duress, but it isn’t impossible. No matter how shitty my day was – long lines at the grocery store, cabin fever, anxiety, stepping into a pile of dog shit on my morning walk, random wailing and gnashing of teeth – there HAD to be a few moments that allowed me to catch my breath and put one foot in front of the other.
Whether it was a FaceTime call with my three-year-old grandnephew, an experimental meal that was better than anticipated, or the endearing snark of my husband, something salvaged the day. Sometimes it isn’t even anything that notable. It could be a song on the radio that elicits a smile, the perfect cup of coffee, or temperatures so mild, I can sit outside for hours, watching a hawk circle lazily overhead, like a totem of freedom. The desert does have its charms.
It’s those moments I am learning to live for. As horrible as 2020 has been, and continues to be, this Thanksgiving I will be ruminating on those unexpected moments of calm and, yes, pleasure that made it tolerable. Small triumphs, happy surprises, inappropriate laughter, all of it. Those are the moments that truly matter. It does me no good at all to dwell on the crushing effects of everyday reality. There’ll be plenty more of that tomorrow. We can’t escape it any more than we can canine squishies on the sidewalk.
All of which makes those defining moments of reprieve just that much more precious to me. Especially in a year like 2020. I have been gathering them together, inspecting them, recognizing them for the wonders they were. As a result, I find I have so much to be thankful for. Maybe, because of the way things are, I should do this more than once a year. Doing it daily sure would beat the alternatives. What do I have to lose but what’s left of my sanity? Something to think about…
Ground Zero 