VANCOUVER â For the past few years, Leah and I have had the pleasure of hosting some of our nearest and dearest in the city for a Thanksgiving potluck. The day, which weâve cleverly deemed Friendsgiving is a reliably joyous affair centred on food, friends and, well, giving fanks. Itâs like chicken soup for the soul only with turkey, green bean casserole and two types of pie.
While we only occasionally ask our dinner guests to share what theyâre thankful for, the truth is that Leah and I spend a fair bit of our Friendsgiving season reflecting on our good fortunes. This year was no exception. Itâs almost a boilerplate at this point, but a lot of fucking shit has happened in the past nineteen months. Shit that has literally killed millions of people, and changed the lives of millions more. And yet somehow weâve lived to see another harvest. Not only that but all loved ones have managed to do the same. How do you express thankfulness for something like that? Where do you even begin?
The best answer Iâve found, at least so far, comes from a newsletter my pal Laura wrote about gratitude a few months ago. The whole thing is worth reading (and subscribing to), but in essence, Laura was skeptical about keeping a gratitude journal. After a particularly tough day she decided to give a try. For two weeks, she wrote down things she was grateful for, and found it did indeed benefit her mental health. Not only that, something shifted as her gratitude got more âgranular.â She writes:
Praising the mundane bits that bring me small wins each day reminds me how so darn lucky I am for my little life⌠In order to carry some small part of the worldâs weight we have to be able to hold up our own. Taking the time to revel in the things that bring you joy can help with that.
For her, that meant acknowledging things like âthe fact that dark chocolate is actually good for youâ and âthe pairing of words âclotted cream.ââ Maybe that resonates with you, or maybe it doesnât. Thatâs the beautiful thing about thanks and gratitude. It is a universal experience revealed through individual reflection, by embracing the idiosyncrasies of oneâs own life.
In the five months since reading Lauraâs newsletter, Iâve tried to zero in on the tiny, beautiful aspects of my own existence. As a small thank you for reading, hereâs some of my favourites.
The texture of Stuâs ears
Running outside when itâs cold but sunny
The views from Arbutus Ridge
Calling people âbabish,â âbarbish,â âbarbsâ etc.
When Leah sings in the morning
Any smoothie that features dates
The sound of single-coil guitar pickups
Freshly washed bedsheets
Getting things in the mail
Leahâs accent when she says the phrase âgarbage ratâ
The fact that, at any time of day, there is a Seinfeld rerun playing on cable
The Wedgesâ voice memos (note: these are classified)
Water in its various forms
âSisâ birthday cards
Kevinâs jammy eggs
Leaving your phone at home
Comments, criticisms, collaborations? Email me at ethan@humanpursuits.org, or follow me on Twitter and Instagram.