Happy Thanksgiving, that is the question.
As a confirmed existentialist, I implement the “ live the life that I have been given” to its fullest potential, knowing and embracing that living is not the last Coca-Cola in the desert.
I have many ideas of why people are so attached to being and staying alive. Do not think for one moment that I’m critical of these life-attached sister humans. It’s just that I see much fear playing a symbiotic relationship with this attachment to life. Could this clinging to life be a genetic drive mixed with fear of religious death? Hell sounds really hot. Now, that is the question.
Morbid? No! It’s just realistic. I started reading and embracing the famous French philosopher Albert Camus in my teens. It was a tender age to contemplate such profound questions, but I did.
Camus’ existentialism became a part of my very fiber, woven into my psyche. At the time, I became aware that too much Camus could damage me by becoming my Achilles heel, my anorexia, so to speak.
Today, as we face our daunting American reality while Thanksgiving celebrations pose coquettishly before us, I wonder what to be thankful for. That’s a tricky question to answer. Maybe I just don’t know the answer.
My thoughts pull me back to one of my most personal slogans, “ I will live the life that I was given.” What does this mean? That my life is a gift. It comes with terms and conditions plus an expiration date. Then, I’ll focus on this beautiful gift. Without these eyes, I would have never read books, danced with a butterfly, or admired all the beauty of nature. Without these ears, I’d never heard Nessum Dorma elevate me to places unknown or the group Kansas singing “Dust in the Wind. Without this nose, I would have missed the aroma of my roses as they swayed in the wind, inviting bees to dance the oldest dance of love and pollination. Without this mouth, I would not speak and sing when others aren’t around. Every component of this awesome gift overwhelms me with joy and allows me to travel through time until my expiration date calls upon me. What more can I ask for? I have been given everything I need. My past regrets, knowing what I know, have vanished into thin air.
Somehow, writing this brief article served to clean my glasses and allow me to see again. It feels like rebooting myself. Yes! I’m not grateful enough for this extraordinary life. It’s been a hell of a ride, and it ‘ain’t’ over yet.
Happy Thanksgiving! Ride the wind, people, ride the wind.
Thank you for reading.
2 Comments
Marlene Simpkins · November 20, 2024 at 7:15 AM
Thanksgiving has always meant one thing for me, work, work, work to feed a bunch of ungrateful people and then work, work, work to clean it all up. Then after all is said and done, I’m too exhausted to enjoy my meal. Those days are over! Peace and Love…..
Mercedes Jenouri · November 22, 2024 at 8:52 AM
Peace and love to you too! I’ve also given up the large Thanksgiving spread. I sure loved cooking for three days and dropping into a stupor after everyone left. I was happy doing it then. I’m happy not doing it now. Yay! Take good care.