Thanksgivings & Misgivings
I will be honest: Thanksgiving is a challenging time for me. While I usually enjoy holidays, this particular North American tradition activates a sad, stubborn, contrary, rage-goblin in my psyche that would much rather hide in a dark cave than partake in any kind of joyful festivities.
There's many reasons for this - a holiday that places so much focus on gathering with family can also stir up lots of complex emotion and big questions of belonging. This may be especially true if we are not able to connect with our loved ones due to geographic distance, an active war zone, a subterranean conflict of values and belief systems, or any number of other reasons.
As a student and teacher of Shadows, I would like to share some seasonal reflections on the concept of gratitude from the depths of my own goblin cave in hopes that it can bring a bit of insight and ease to the expectation we hold of ourselves (and others) this holiday season.
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First, it is important to acknowledge that I do believe that cultivating a conscious lens of gratitude is very important, and I practice my own form of it on a daily basis.
And yet...
As the 100th gratitude-centered wellness campaign lands in my inbox, I wonder if the cultural fixation on gratitude as a cure-all for "negativity" is functioning more like some kind of mass gas-lighting phenomena. I wonder if speaking to gratitude and only gratitude creates an invisible barrier of shame around the less marketable aspects of being human (like feelings of disappointment, loss, frustration, anger, or grief - to name a few.)
So, what's a sad, grumpy, decidedly un-grateful rage-goblin to do, especially this time of year? How do we escape this festive well-intentioned but somewhat dehumanizing trap of toxic positivity culture?
Here's one way I've found of looking at this that has been helpful:
Gratitude arises in us organically when a desire we hold is so perfectly and deliciously satiated that we cannot help but experience an outpouring of joy. There is a natural pause here - a breath, a moment of non-doing, and non-seeking. Our hunger has been satiated - we are simply so full that we cannot do anything but reflect and digest in wonder.
I propose that gratitude and hunger are two polarities of a complete, healthy emotional cycle.
On one point of this cycle lives unfulfilled hunger and desire - that yearning that glows deeply in our hearts, and functions as an inner compass that drives us to action.
On the opposite point of this cycle lives gratitude - that open, beautiful, overflowing state of joy and connection that fills our whole being with delightful warmth and brings us to a natural pause.
The abandonment of this cyclical process is what contributes to rabid, mindless cultural patterns of consumption and superficiality. For hunger without gratitude is greed - it does not allow for true rest or satiation. And gratitude without hunger is a disconnected facade - meaningless, directionless, and shallow.
I want to return to the sad, grumpy, lonely, exhausted rage-goblins who may be reading this and offer an alternative framing to this whole gratitude business:
+ What if, instead of gaslighting and shaming ourselves for feeling ungrateful we could gift ourselves an open acknowledgment and celebration of the hungers stirring in our bellies?
+ What if we trusted our hearts to feel and share whatever they need to feel and share this holiday season?
+ What if each of these emotions could be wise messengers - arrows that point us to the true North of where gratitude may be found? Invitations for others to join us in action towards fulfilling our hearts' actual deepest desires?
And...if you don't feel like making yet another gratitude list, how about making a voracious hungers list? True, living hunger -- those things that you're craving so deeply that your whole being writhes, hisses, and churns in desire?
I suspect, at the very least, your inner rage goblin may be sincerely grateful for an outlet. And voilà - you're feeling a moment of real thankfulness this holiday season at last.