Thanks-feeling.

I've been very involved with school the past couple weeks, so I couldn't bother writing a new post. Thanksgiving has forced my hand.

Thanksgiving has always been a "sacred" day for me. It is a holiday that, up until the past few years, has been  mostly kept to it's roots: a time to gather your family, clan, and community, share in the insane abundance most of the citizenry has, and meditate on on the everyday goodness we experience, and consider our ability to help a world that so desperately needs it. It's a time for me to re-evaluate my sense of gratitude, and to remember that giving thanks is not simply a noise that comes from your mouth, but a feeling inside you. A realization that I do not deserve the kindness a man showed me by handing me a couple shekels because I was short at the market, or being welcomed into a family's home to observe the day that I so cherish. Earlier this week I was disappointed to not be among "my people" for this day. It's actually the first holiday season I won't be with my family. And while it's a necessary sacrifice, it's still sad at times. What twisted the knife was how my original plans for tonight ended up being canceled. But, naturally, at the last moment yesterday, I was invited to accompany a family I know to share a Thanksgiving meal with some other Americans, who happened to be U.N. workers.

I looked forward to standard Levant fare. But then I caught a myriad of familiar scents on the approach to the house. I almost couldn't believe it. Turkey. Pies. Sweet potatoes. It was all there. Even the Packer game. It's funny, but most Thanksgivings I like nontraditional answers to the menu. But this time it was special. A group of expats sharing in one of the basic traditions of humanity, the communal meal, to give thanks, and to feel thanks.

Until next time.