Last night I laid on my mat, finishing up a yoga video with Charlie. It was a gratitude specific practice and at the end the teacher said, “lay into your mat and feel the ground supporting you.” My mind wandered and I thought, this isn’t the ground (not immediately), it’s this home. The floors of this old home, hold me up.
I get easily swept up into wanting to improve and change our home, and lose site of how it holds us up, together. Supported. I adore this home, and all the bodies in it.
This Thanksgiving is a strange one, rife with the awful political climate, the horrors of Standing Rock, and a lot of dark irony. We are spending today as a family, loving each other, eating well, and donating to causes we believe in. We talked about the origins of the holiday (oddly, many depictions describe it originally being not at all pilgrim/native American based but, instead, a day to honor your family and family who is gone) and that we believe deeply in family time together, connection, and thinking of family members we’ve lost.
It’s also a day where my home is overfull of good smells, glowing candles, and my girls’ giggling as they play board games and Christmas music plays loudly.
I couldn’t be more thankful for this life. My freedom to think critically about it, and act. My little family, and this home – these walls that keep us warm and supported.
Happy Thanksgiving, from our little family to yours. I am so grateful for your readership, your emails, responses, comments, and camaraderie. The internet can be a dark spot sometimes, but I’ve found nothing but bright light here.