Giving Thanks
When in doubt, be grateful
My draft box is brimming with shards of thoughts, contorting outlines and near-complete essays, but I’ve found it impossible to hit send lately. Our schedules have been wonky, leaving me less time to write cohesively, but more than anything the state of geopolitics has me second guessing every word I’m submitting to the ether. Does anyone really want my opinion about nation-states or the looming presidential election? Or a navel-gazing essay about body dysmorphia? Maybe so, but it all feels a little trifling at the moment.
When my partner and I had a rough patch in our relationship following the birth of our son, the counselor who advised us gave one pragmatic tool for navigating the morass we were in: everyday, five times a day, find something for which you can express gratitude to your partner. There’s a whole script our counselor prescribed about the method of giving and receiving thanks, but the main point was for each person to practice vocalizing appreciation, and for the other person to practice receiving it (the receiving part can often be the harder job!). Scientific research shows that expressing gratitude not only supports our communal bonds, but it also enhances our individual mental wellbeing.
So, in this time of acute despair and anxiety, I’d like to share some things I’m very grateful for.
The playground. As soon as our son was born, we began walking to the park up the street from our house twice a day. At first it was just to get out and enjoy the sunshine, walk the dog, but I quickly began recruiting every parent of a child around the same age as mine to be my friend. “Hi!” I’d say with an insane smile to any parent with a baby strapped to their chest, “how old is your baby?” Some came and went, but an incredible number stuck and I can’t believe my luck in having this group of parents two blocks from where I live. We’re a diverse group with different backgrounds and careers and perspectives, but that’s part of what I love about it. We haven’t all chosen to enroll our kids in a particular school or sport or church, we just happen to have landed in the same neighborhood. It’s now two years later and every evening (and sometimes morning), ten or twelve kids and an assortment of parents congregate at the playground to wind down the day. It’s a simple ritual, but in this time of disconnection I feel really grateful to have this consistent community.
Rain. It isn’t snow, but it’s the closest I get in Southern California. It lets me get crafty and make soup and indulge in a bit of ennui that the sunshine can’t help but blast away. I will never abolish the phrase “we really needed this” from my vocab. So sue me.
Nana and Grandma. We are so lucky to have two matriarchs who make an incredible effort to match our two-year-old’s energy, who play farm and garden and go for nature walks and take trips to the museum. They are the only reason I’m able to write at all!
Phone calls. My oldest friends and younger sister all live across the country, so when I really need to have my opinions challenged or to complain at length, nothing beats hashing it out on the phone. (FaceTime is nice, too, when the toddlers are clamoring to be part of it.)
Music. The reissue of Hiroshi Yoshimura’s Surround and Sufjan Stevens’ new album Javelin have both been on heavy rotation for me. Here are some others that deserve a little further explication:
Johnny Cash. We have been very resistant to playing little kid music for our little kid. What can I say? We’re snobs! We did have a brief stint with Raffi, which still hits now and then, but the album my son requests every single time we’re in the car, and too often at home, is Johnny Cash’s Ride This Train. It’s a concept album where he narrates the history of the railroad in America, with nods to the indigenous people who lived here before the founding and the people who built the rails. Cash’s baritone when he’s story-telling and singing have captured our son’s imagination, and the tunes are pretty fun.
André 3000. The new album is good! It’s not miraculous (he’s no Alice Coltrane), but the track titles are perfect and he does approach something transcendent. Honestly, I’m just proud of him for being a real artist. I don’t care how much your paintings sell for or how many Spotify wrap lists your music shows up on or who wears your clothes. The designation of artist is barely warranted anymore, but Three Stacks has continued to follow his soul’s vision, and this new album is proof of just that.
The Peanuts Christmas Album. This album sparks nostalgia in me in a way very little else does, and I can’t help but revel in it. Last year I played it every morning starting in September, but this year I held off until after Halloween, and you know what? I regret not playing it sooner. I’m listening to it right now!
My family. It pains me that my family is pretty badly fractured at this point. But I do take joy in the fact that I genuinely find each person I’m related to to be thoughtful and deep and caring. It isn’t easy to overcome differences and find real forgiveness, but I’m still hopeful that on day everyone will reach some sort of reconciliation.
Not scrolling on Instagram. I still have Instagram, I’m not that impressive, but I’m trying to be more conscientious about it, consuming the things I want to consume when I want to consume them, not just endlessly swiping my finger across the screen. So every night after my son has gone to sleep, I look up one Instagram account: @angrylou. I came across Lou Gonzalez Jr., a New York based comedian, about a month ago and he/she/they’ve gained more than ten thousand followers in that time. @angrylou is reinventing the skill of curation. They roundup truly hilarious TikToks—niche, minimal production, often earnest—as well as videos with more philosphical or ethical themes, and the result is usually brilliant juxtaposition. When days are rough, these collections manage to really make me laugh before I go to bed. The other honorable mentions are @dusttodigital and @eggstyrone. There’s not much else on there I really want!
Tumble Leaf. If you think our strictures on music are tight, just wait ‘til you hear about our video consumption! We avoided any screen time for almost two years, and now we feel comfortable using it as a tool, but not a crutch. The main qualifications for shows we let our kid watch: we have to want to watch it, too (or at least not mind watching it), no quick camera work/flashing graphics/startling sounds, no fighting (we’re working together, not on opposing teams). Enter: Tumble Leaf. It’s about a little blue fox named Fig who lives on a ship with a family of chickens, and each episode Fig finds a new tool and puts it to use in practical and creative ways. It’s very STEM! The show is stop-motion and the visuals are, frankly, dope. I like that when we’re out in the world we find ways to refer to it. “That’s a magnifying glass like Fig used to hunt down the muffin crumbs! See how it makes things look bigger?” I also don’t feel (too) guilty letting my kid watch it alone. I think Puffin Rock and Guess How Much I Love You are sweet, but the kid is not impressed by them. There may be a screen time essay coming in the future…
Flowers. Lilacs remind me of New England, passionfruit vines twist in our yard here in LA. The smell of jasmine will forever make me think of my grandmother and her house. Peonies, tulips, irises, orchids, hydrangeas, magnolias. Man, I love flowers.
Brayden. Every single day I see and feel his support. He rules.
Up next: The airing of grievances 😈