In place of a daily poem, today I am sharing one of my favorite pieces from Jon Carroll. He was one of my favorite columnists at the San Francisco Chronicle, and I’m pleased that he has continued to share his writing on his own blog after retiring from the paper.

He has two particularly good columns related to Thanksgiving. When I have company, and we gather to celebrate the day, reading one or the other is part of the festivities. It’s as much a tradition as pumpkin pie. I’m not having company at my house today, so I’m sharing it with you, my virtual company in my online home.

I didn’t write this, but I wish I had. I hope it is meaningful and encouraging for you as well.

The article below was originally published in the San Francisco Chronicle, and is available online at http://www.sfgate.com/entertainment/article/JON-CARROLL-3235548.php

Gratitude is the antidote. It is useful in combatting a variety of diseases, from something as vague as the discontents of civilization to something as specific as personal grief. Thanksgiving is the holiday of gratitude, and I am always willing to celebrate it.

We are told frequently that “it is what it is.” That’s a tautology, of course, and an increasingly grating cliche, but it gained prominence because it’s a real reminder of a real thing: What happened happened. You can’t change the past. All we have is today. See you in the future!

But regret is real. Sorrow and pain and loss – all real.

I sometimes think of civilization or society as a kind of floor, a patchy, rickety floor in constant need of repair. Below the floor is the chasm. Some people know that chasm well – those who have scrabbled to exist in war zones, those who have tried to cope after hurricanes or earthquakes, those who have lost multiple family members simultaneously. For them, the daily comforts of society are of little use. The network of routine, the solace of art, the hope for the future – none of it seems real.

Only the chasm seems real.

The chasm is only metaphorical, of course, but sometimes we live our lives entirely within metaphors. Our choice of metaphors is just a matter of taste. There’s no right answer in this quiz, kids.

But still we have to get through the day. And, I am convinced, the route through the day is gratitude. Because there is always something to be grateful for, and that something is not in the chasm, it floats above the chasm, denies the importance of the chasm.

You choose: sunsets, apples, bedrooms in the morning, Bruce Springsteen, a child’s second birthday, the smile on the face of a passing stranger, rivers, mountaintops, cathedrals, Shakespeare, Tina Fey, the curve of a thigh, the curve of a road, the nation of Switzerland, Carl Hiaasen, grass, orange, Bola Sete, jumbo shrimp, Pascal’s theorem, Occam’s razor, clean restrooms, potable water, penguins, French kissing or peanuts.

Can you feel the floor beneath your feet get sturdier? Can you see the holes being patched? For a moment, the bounty of the world overwhelmed you, and you were grateful to be alive at this moment. See? Antidote.

So today, if we are at all lucky, we will gather with family and/or friends and eat food and talk of shared alliances and shared memories. Many Thanksgivings are family gatherings, and family gatherings are often fraught. My suggestion is: Embrace the fraught. You’d miss the fraught if it weren’t there.

Besides, there’s always the moment of escaping the fraught, going outside for a smoke or down to the store for more whipped cream or out for a walk with someone you love. You can’t have the escape without the prison. Be grateful for both.

What I’m going to try to do this year is slow down. What I’m going to try to do this year is pay attention. Usually I run around. Lots of people make me frantic – we always have lots of people at our Thanksgivings – and there are always a thousand tasks. The point of the holiday is not the tasks, even though it seems that way sometimes.

I’m going to think about how each of the people at the table came into my life, and what I remember about that moment, and how we decided to become friends instead of just people who met each other once a long time ago. And I’m going to remember the kindness that each person has shown me, and I’m also going to remember my kindnesses, because I’m grateful for the times I behaved well.

And because not all the people I’m grateful for are in the room today, I’m going to think about them and send them good thoughts across the miles. I don’t believe in the transmission of thoughts, but I believe in trying. It’s like a flashy vehicle for mindfulness, and mindfulness is hard when the talk is loud and the carbohydrates are disappearing at alarming rates.

And as I walk across the floor from one room to another, I’m going to notice how solid the floor feels beneath my feet today. I know how fragile it is, but it doesn’t matter. Today, right now, this Thanksgiving, it feels like the oldest rock in the world, and I stand on it and rejoice.

I’m reposting this from a few years ago, because it’s just as relevant. Enjoy!

Tarot. Thanksgiving. They both start with the letter T. Sometimes they’re both filled with things we’d rather not deal with (Cousin Sarah’s obnoxious boyfriend, jello salad with coconut topping, the Ten of Swords followed by the Tower).  On the plus side, both offer opportunities for reflection and gratitude.

I’m trying to be more mindful of the holidays this year, and not allow myself to be caught up in the chaos which often erupts at this time. I was thinking about Thanksgivings long gone, and remembered my grade school art teacher, who truly believed that everyone was an artist. For those of us whose artistic abilities were less-developed, she would show us shortcuts for drawing. One of those shortcuts was to trace around your hand to create an outline of a turkey.  One random thought led to another, and the next thing you know, I had sketched out not only a turkey, but a Gratitude Reading. You can use it any time, of course, but it seems especially pertinent today.

Trace around your hand (do each finger individually) to create a turkey shape. The thumb is the turkey’s head, and the fingers make the tailfeather spray. You can color in the turkey if you want, add feet, and decorate any way you wish. You can also work with just the outline if you want. The point is to think about gratitude, not to get hung up on making a realistic drawing of a bird.

Hand drawn turkey, found on the internet

Shuffle your deck, pondering all that is good in your life and asking the Tarot to show you all that you have for which to be grateful.  When you’re done shuffling, lay out the cards – the first one on the head, and the next four on the tailfeathers, and two more on the bottom for the feet.  If you traced your right hand, move clockwise around the drawing; if you traced your left hand, move counter-clockwise.

Card 1, on the turkey’s head, represents mental and intellectual blessings.

Card 2, the front tailfeather, represents physical and material blessings.

Card 3, the tallest tailfeather, represents spiritual blessings.

Card 4, the next tailfeather, represents emotional blessings.

Card 5, the last tailfeather, represents historical blessings – things in your past which were beneficial in some way, even if they didn’t seem like positive events or influences at the time.

Card 6, the first foot, represents the blessings associated with home and family.

Card 7, the other foot, represents the blessings associated with work and career – not just vocation, but avocation and hobbies as well.

Find some paper and crayons, shuffle your cards, and use the Tarot to remind you of all that is good in your life!

The Lute and the Lyre
~ Algernon Charles Swinburne

Deep desire, that pierces heart and spirit to the root,
Finds reluctant voice in verse that yearns like soaring fire,
Takes exultant voice when music holds in high pursuit
Deep desire.

Keen as burns the passion of the rose whose buds respire,
Strong as grows the yearning of the blossom toward the fruit,
Sounds the secret half unspoken ere the deep tones tire.

Slow subsides the rapture that possessed love’s flower-soft lute,
Slow the palpitation of the triumph of the lyre:
Still the soul feels burn, a flame unslaked though these be mute,
Deep desire.

Still Life with Peonies and Lute by Andrey Morozov

The Catacombs in San Callisto
~ Rolf Jacobsen
Translated from the Norwegian by Roger Greenwald

A city in death with the streets caved in and the traffic lights still.

A city seen in a broken mirror we have to rub the darkness from with our hands.

Beneath the stars and the beneath the earth, a city like a laugh behind a closed door.

A Venice of night, bridges reflected in dust.

The world’s pride, a city with its forehead split and its face overgrown with slime.

Thin shreds of roots like fingers and feet, hands and shoulder blades of skeletons.

Roots and branches of roots, daed that bend their fingers around the dark as around a stone.

A tree up from our broken reality, with its root planted in humiliation.

A tree that stretches out over the earth and reaches almost to the stars, Arcturus, Capella.

A tree from the earth’s heart. Wondrous. Keeping faith.

Tree Roots from The Tree Center Dot Com

I was recently in London for business, and was fortunate to visit the Scythians: Warriors of Ancient Siberia exhibit at the British Museum, organized in cooperation with the State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia (another place I am hoping to visit in this lifetime).

A nomadic people, the Scythians flourished roughly 900 BCE – 200 BCE, traversing the steppes and plains of Siberia. Through formal cultural exchange and pillage, they both absorbed and influenced the Greek, Assyrian, and Persian civilizations of their time. Much of what we know is from the recorded histories of those cultures (as the Scythians did not have written records of their own) and from burial mounds. You can read the museum’s introduction to the exhibit on its blog.

The exhibit is large, and well-organized. I spent rather a lot of time in the jewelry and precious objects display, because, well, jewelry. I have no photos of my own (no photography permitted in the exhibit), so I am relying on the museum photos.

Gold torc with turquoise inlays. © The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg, 2017. Photo: V Terebenin.

Scythians with horses under a tree. Gold belt plaque. Siberia, 4th–3rd century BC. © The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg, 2017. Photo: V Terebenin.

The Scythians were fierce warriors, tattoed, attired in wool and tall hats, and rode like the wind, striking fear into the hearts of their opponents.

Artist’s impression of a Scythian on a horse. Reconstruction by D V Pozdnjakov.

Their horses were also fitted with leather armor and tall headpieces, creating an even more impressive and frightening appearance.

Horse headgear. Mound 1, Pazyryk, Altai. Late 4th–early 3rd century BC. © The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg, 2017. Photo- V Terebenin

They drank for fun (to excess, according to the Greeks and Persians) and used hemp as a pain reliever. Which is important when you’ve been riding all day, and doing battle.

The image that struck me, and stayed with me, is The Golden Beast:

Scythian Golden Beast, Image by British Museum, London, UK.

Two dragons face each other, with a Tree of Life in the center. It wasn’t available as an art print, so I ended up with a tea towel, as that was the only option for capturing the image among the gift shop goods.

Scythian Dragons with Tree of Life tea towel – my photo

If you look closely at the borders, you will also see rams, stags, and panthers. It’s now part of my altar set up.

I also indulged in this hand-carved horn comb, ornamented with a phoenix. (No, it’s not an original artifact, merely a copy!)

Scythian-Style Carved Horn Comb with Phoenix – my photo

A nomadic, fierce warrior people, known for fighting and drinking, and fond of shiny objects, with favored mythical beasts of dragons and wolves, and a Tree of Life as the center of their mythology.

Hm. This sounds so familiar. If only I could figure out what this reminds me of . . . .

The exhibit is on through January 14, 2018. If you have the chance to see it, I recommend it highly! If not, you can always order the exhibit catalog from the British Museum online gift shop.