Giving Thanks

Quick Reminders of thanksgiving through my mailbox:
One is titled: Give Thanks for your Crappy Job. It reads:

Give Thanks for Your Paycheck — If you’re collecting regular paychecks or severance payments, you’re doing better than a lot of people. That’s not to say that you should settle for a job that’s only about the paycheck or avoid taking risks to find more fulfilling work. You can have both a paycheck and a meaningful career. And you will.

Give Thanks for All That You’ve Learned — Your experience in Corporate America has made you wiser. You have learned valuable business skills, developed a network of helpful contacts, and built a resume. You’ve also learned a lot about what you DON’T want to do for a living. All of these things will come in handy in your dream career — whether it’s starting your own business, becoming a third-grade teacher, or writing the Great American Novel. Yes, your bosses can always lay you off but they can never take away any of that hard-earned experience or your talents, skills, or wisdom.

Give Thanks for the Fire Under Your Ass — Sometimes, people need to be miserable in order to find the motivation to change. If you know anything about Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey or have seen a few Hollywood films, you know that the hero must go through crisis in order to achieve victory. A wise woman in one of my writing workshops put it this way — "a character doesn’t change unless you light a fire under his ass." What this means for you is that you will probably never take a leap until you feel flames on the seat of your pants. That fire could be the burning passion for your new career or it could be the slow, smoldering misery and/or frustration of a job that doesn’t inspire you. Whatever your inspiration, if you find yourself giving thanks for a brilliant new career by next Thanksgiving, you have that fire under your ass to thank.

Give Thanks for a Day Off — Most good corporate citizens in the U.S. get a paid day off for Thanksgiving. Many even get two (say thanks twice in this case). And if you’ve been laid off, look at it this way: You can do whatever you want for Thanksgiving and you don’t have to clear your plans with any boss this year. Take a break from the job search and do what so many terminated executives say they’re going to do — spend more time with your family. Or ditch your family if they’re a pain in the butt and spend time with people who are more supportive. Eat well and wear loose-fitting clothing.

(From Pamella Skillings, author of Escape from Corporate America: A Practical Guide to Creating the Career of Your Dreams.)


I don't get the day-off, and I am not super happy with our work. But I am thankful we are not unemployed, I am thankful for the experience we have gathered over the years, and I am thankful for our current situation and the possibility it offers us to re-evaluate what we have achieved and plan where we are going.

The other post was from Jennifer Louden, author of The Comfort Queen's Guide to Life: Create All That You Need with Just What You've Got and The Life Organizer: A Woman's Guide to a Mindful Year.

How I Used to Hate Gratitude

Hey, I love gratitude as much as the next self-help writer…. Only… I didn’t used to.

I used to not get the whole gratitude rap. Trying to be grateful always felt strained to me, forced and pious. Set my teeth on edge. As in I should be grateful. Cue the angels. (Have I mentioned I’m not so fond of harps?)

I don’t want to feel grateful, my inner rebel would snarl.
And, of course, I felt like a spiritual loser for not feeling grateful. Bad Jenny, look at all you have and you’re not grateful. Plus, frankly, it felt bad. Like I was missing something really scrumptious.

Anna teaches me
It was my dear friend Anna Bunting about 12 years ago who taught me how to feel gratitude, instead of think it. We were part of a group of six women who meet every week. We’d discuss a topic and eat chocolate.

Only that sounds so dry. It was never dry.

(Like the time our topic was “What would you pack if there was a nuclear war or some other big disaster and you had one hour to pack?” I arrived wearing a big backpack filled with books and photographs and my grandmother’s quilt. Another woman came empty handed: what was the point of packing anything? Another friend came packed for survival — for one. In her story, her family was already dead and she was headed to the mountains alone. See, not dry.)

So one night
our topic was, you guessed it, gratitude. I was whining about not getting the whole concept, and how it felt forced to me, and then Anna gently laid her hand on my arm (she probably wanted to gently slap me) and pointed out that I could simply notice what was right in front of me. What did I feel genuinely grateful for right now?

(Put down the significance Jen, and focus on what’s here. It doesn’t have to be a big ding-dang-do.)

I pretended to get what she was saying but I was still snarling inside and feeling like a spiritual fraud. Until a bit later when I raised my hand to wipe my nose or something mundane, and POP BAM WHAMMY! There was this burst of sun and childhood goodness, an olfactory yum of benevolence. It took me a breath to understand I was simply smelling the lingering scent of satsumas on my fingers from lunch. And everything came together, Anna’s invite, the scent of childhood, the memories it triggered…

Oh, so this is gratitude.
Oh, I get it.

Oh that feels really, really good.

I started to weep as I looked around at those women whom I loved, and at my funky living room with its early marriage mis-mash of furniture — bits of my mom and my history — and of Lilly’s toys in the corner, family snapshots, the good dark chocolate on the coffee table, the trees swaying outside in the wind.

Oh, so this is gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Gratitude for the simple thinks, that mystical moment when the air smells just perfect. When the faces of my family around the table look just what i've ever wanted. When time stops for a tiny grain of time and it all looks as it should be.



(Graphics by Irene)