Thanksgiving Without Thanks

Now, I could sit here and rant about how I am so tremendously appalled by the selfish mentality we have here in the United States or how it disgusts me that we somehow think that giving thanks once every 365 days (or perhaps 366) is pleasantly adequate. Key word in that last sentence was could. I could rant. But I won't. After all, if I chose that topic, this post would be quite negative. Actually totally, completely, wholeheartedly, downright pessimistic. And who the heck would want to read that on their annual day of giving thanks? I know I wouldn't. So I've decided to take a different route here, to let you in on a little Thanksgiving secret of my own, in all its unadulterated legitimacy.

You see, for a little while now, thanks has been my least favorite word. Any form of it: thankful, thanking, thanksgiving, etc. It's not that I hate giving thanks; in fact, it's quite the opposite. But I've been getting upset when I do things for others and then don't receive the thanks that I believe I deserve in response to these oh so "praise-worthy" acts of mine. Sometimes, I only do things in the hope of the onslaught of gratitude I'll receive in return for them. In other words, I can sometimes be a self-absorbed, greedy, egocentric loser, to put it kindly, who does the right things for all the wrong reasons.

And I'm so incredibly glad that I've realized this. It hit me one day as I read a quote by John Wooden. Sorry I mention him quite a bit, and sorry also because I will continue to mention him quite a bit, but he's just awesome. He brings life to life with his gentle, yet wisdom-saturated words. Words that cannot go unnoticed. Words that should not and cannot be taken for granted. This particular quote of his goes a little something like this: "Well, your greatest joy definitely comes from doing something for another, especially when it was done with no thought of something in return." Something tells me that this is a tad easier said than done. I mean, is he really telling me that I should hold the door open for that person behind me and not be a little upset if that person doesn't throw a sincere thanks my way? Yes; pretty much. And I should help that person with all 120 of their math problems and not be overcome with angry regret when they forget to drop even one measly thank you? Well, you bet.

It suddenly doesn't sound so fun. But that's not really what it's all about, "fun." Fun. is a band (a darn good one); but it's not the guaranteed result of giving. It can be. It definitely can be. But it's not always going to be. So what exactly am I getting at here? And how is this not the negative post that I promised to avoid at all costs?

Well, here it goes. I've decided to put John Wooden's words into practice, to make them a reality in my own life this Thanksgiving. And every other day of the year for that matter. You see, most of the time my thoughts on Thanksgiving become clouded with thoughts of mashed potatoes, [organic] turkey, pumpkin pie, and a bunch of other stuff that is unidentifiable because it is smothered with so much butter. Don't get me wrong; it is all very yummy. Indulge away. But don't let it get the best of you. Instead, try to focus on a thanksgiving without thanks. You see what I did there? It would just be giving. I'm not saying that we should not express our utmost gratitude on this day. I'm just saying that perhaps some more emphasis should be placed on the giving. Giving without expecting. Investing without anticipating a monstrous amount of interest. It sounds kind of really beautiful.

So. Happy Giving (with a heaping side of thanks).

P.S. Shout out to Gobbles, the turkey.