Years ago I
heard or read somewhere that the average American family eats Thanksgiving
leftovers for 6 days. I haven’t been able to confirm that, but it’s a
staggering thought, especially when you figure that quite a few people only
have them for 2 or 3 days, meaning some families are annually pushing the
limits of safe refrigerator hygiene. More to the point, regardless of how many
turkey sandwiches I might endure, my intention this year has been for the
thanksgiving in my heart to last at least as long as the leftovers.
Without a doubt, of all the
spiritual and life-enhancing practices I’ve engaged in, cultivating a practice
of thanksgiving has been the most valuable in terms of my day-to-day happiness
level. Indeed, to this point anyway, according to the scientists who actually
study happiness (I wonder if they’re happy studying it?) the only practice that
has been objectively measured to increase prolonged happiness is doing a daily
gratitude list. Wow, and such a simple thing, too. Gratitude opens my heart,
brings me right smack dab into the present moment, has me focusing on what I
want (rather than what I don’t want), and instantly raises my consciousness;
all the things most of us are looking for in a daily spiritual practice. Your
grandmother and mine knew what they were talking about when they told us to
count our blessings! This is probably why every faith tradition contains
prayers and rituals that represent gratitude and appreciation for the Divine,
for life, and/or for all creation.
Eric Butterworth, a famous Unity
Minister and author, wrote, “Thanksgiving is not just a reactionary emotion; it
is a causative energy.” Gratitude isn’t just something I feel only when I get
what I want; it’s a state of consciousness that allows me to create my experience
of life based on my core values and intentions. It’s an attitude of mind I can
develop that allows me to see the good in myself and in life. It’s a causative
energy that has contributed greatly to the realization of many of my dreams.
When I first started developing a
thanksgiving practice, I began with the “small” stuff—those everyday blessings
and gifts that I was taking for granted. Immediately I discovered, to
paraphrase A Course in Miracles, that
there’s no order of magnitude among blessings when I notice and acknowledge
them. It was hard at first to list what I was grateful for, but forcing myself
to do it seemed to grease the whole mechanism to the point where I could soon
take a 15-minute walk in the morning and rattle off things I was grateful for
the whole time.
The next step was developing
gratitude in the face of things it was harder to be grateful for. In the Bible,
Paul writes, “Give thanks in all things.”
No small feat. Thankfully, he doesn’t say, “Give thanks FOR all things.”
The Buddha put it this way: “Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't
learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a
little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't
die; so, let us all be thankful.” For me both Paul and the Buddha are
suggesting something possible and extremely powerful, namely, when the schmootz
(Yiddish for “dirt”) hits the fan, I don’t necessarily have to be grateful FOR
it, but IN the situation, I can still keep at least one toe firmly ensconced in
gratitude, because I can choose to remember all the countless things that aren’t
schmootzy and be grateful. This allows me to stay grounded, present, hopeful
and connected to my inner resources—those things that will help me through the
schmootz and possibly even see a blessing in it.
This brings me back to leftovers.
I’m working on being thankful for my leftovers, which in this case I’ll define
as those issues I’ve worked on/with, ad nauseum, for eons. You know; the
negative labels I’ve stitched deeply into the collar of my self-image? The ones
that still, after all these years, show up and spoil the fun like red ants at a
picnic? Do you have any of those? Can I really be thankful for those leftovers
when they emerge from the fridge and show up in my awareness?
In many ways I believe that until I
do develop gratitude for those leftovers, they continue to return like
relatives I don’t like. In Jewish scripture, after Jacob wrestles all night
with an angel who finally asks Jacob to let him go, Jacob responds, “I will not
let you go until you bless me.” What a beautiful metaphor for those issues I’ve
wrestled with for years. In the past I tried denying them, hating them,
resisting them, feeling victimized by them, cajoling them, inquiring into them
and generally focusing on them so hard and so long in an attempt to get rid of
them that I was able to expound on them backwards and forwards in several
different languages. When I started to simply be OK with them, to notice them
and accept them, they started to let go of me a bit. They lost some power over
me because I stopped giving them so much power. When I actually started
blessing them, they let go of me even more.
There’ve been other gifts in giving thanks for my leftovers.
I’ve noticed that in some way my leftovers have served me and still serve me,
and I’ve been able to identify the needs they serve and work on meeting those
needs in healthier ways. I’ve also noticed that I’ve been able to reframe some
of my negative labels into things that empower me. For instance, instead of
calling myself lazy, I now enjoy and understand the value of rest and
recharging. Instead of thinking of myself as a “good little boy” or “people
pleaser”, I’ve become a compassionate being who touches people with my kindness
and love. And instead of stressing over my tendency to obsess over things that
never happened and never will happen, I now have one-pointed focus and
attention on my deepest intentions. Is that cool or what?
I’m turning my issues into allies. Just like Gandhi did with
his alleged greediness, I can use my leftovers as compost for growing what I
really want for myself and for the world. I’ll need them as allies in my
journey. When Jesus was tempted by Satan, his last “test” before taking on his
ministry, he repeated several times, “Get thee behind me, Satan.” Perhaps Jesus
was being tempted by the leftovers in his own consciousness and not necessarily
banishing them, but telling them to get behind him, to support him, to get on
his team. He undoubtedly knew he’d need every aspect of his wholeness to do
what he needed to do in this world, and I can do the same. I’m thankful for my
leftovers, and I’m thankful the Thanksgiving leftovers are gone!
Author: Stew Bittman, ISIS Class of 2013
With his wife Hillary, Stew is the Spiritual Leader at Unity at The Lake in South Lake Tahoe, CA. Their blog and full bios can be found here: http://bittmanbliss.com/wordpress/
Excellent, Stew. especially the last paragraph. Thank you.
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