Thanksgiving

To start with, I'm thankful for the following:

-fresh figs baked with goat cheese, bacon and cranberries

-pumpkin pie

-roasted vegetable salad

-mashed potatoes

-a nice dry rosé wine

-maple-glazed turkey with quinoa stuffing

I should mention as well:

-two aunts, five cousins, and two family friends

-23 degrees centigrade in October

-Parc St. Bruno and Lac Du Moulin, and at least 15 shades of red, orange and yellow autumn leaves

-a nearly full moon

That's just for starters, of course. I'm also thankful for this moment, for my friends in Vancouver and elsewhere, for having an apartment to myself for four months, for having a decent job, and for many more things. But here's something else: I'm thankful for having broken my heel bone three years ago, for having student debt, and for feeling alone sometimes. I'm thankful for the struggles, the pain, and the pettiness that I can sometimes give in to. I'm thankful for all of it, because without yang there would be no yin - and vice versa.

I have been listening, the last few days, to the songs that have defined my life in some way or another. What happens to me when I do this is that I enter another state, and things I haven't thought of in years, recollections of who I am and have been, return. What always happens, inevitably, is that I forget to wash the dishes. Also, this: I remember most vividly the moments when I decided that I never again wanted to take my privileged life for granted. I never wanted to take my family, my friends, my home, the things I eat and consume, any of it for granted; I wanted to engage, always, in this now-recurring theme of gratitude. There's such joy in feeling lucky.

But also, it's so easy to forget that. It's so rational to see the world around you as flawed, destructive; to see the lack and the need, and to feel it in yourself. It seems to me that the most enjoyable times of my life, and the best conversations, made no real sense at all - they were just a blast of energy. They often came out of nowhere, or were the product of pure serendipity. I'm learning to trust that life has its own timing, and when you are focused on the absolute goodness of yourself - paradoxically the most outward, unselfish perspective, as that which is most sublime is most paradoxical - things happen. Good things.