I’m writing this as dawn emerges behind the foothills, casting a salmon-hued glow on a glossy Pacific Ocean.
On our south-facing coast we revel in an almost God’s-eye view of both sunrise and sunset. If you spend any time outdoors — in the Santa Barbara Channel, at the shore, or exploring Santa Barbara lowland parks or mountain trails — you are almost certain to come away with a sense of gratitude.
Americans have cherished the value of gratitude since before we were a nation, with the first harvest celebration in the autumn of 1621.
The feast included at least 90 Wampanoag and 52 English people, including perhaps five women, according to the National Archive Museum.
What is remembered as the First Thanksgiving is problematic now, considering the centuries of suffering we imposed upon the indigenous nations.
However imperfect, the treasured memory says something important about how we want to be portrayed in history: the standard we set for ourselves.
In this post-PC age, Thanksgiving can portray our gratitude for the historical harvest with the essential help of the First People, while also recognizing our abysmally flawed response.
Gratitude has been an important feature of most “old-world” religions. Hinduism, thought to be a synthesis of traditions and cultures dating to Iron and Bronze Ages, expresses gratitude through hospitality and services to the divine.
In Judaism, gratitude takes the form of prayer and rituals as well as through the holiday of Sukkot.
Meditation and giving and receiving generosity are gratitude practices fundamental to Buddhism. Likewise, it is essential to Christianity, where it is manifested in prayer, hymns, and the Holy Eucharist.
Gratitude is also central to Islam, evident in daily prayers and the month of Ramadan.
In “Braiding Sweetgrass,” author Robin Kimmerer notes that globally, many indigenous cultures find a common rootedness in gratitude. She describes in detail the Thanksgiving Address of the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) people of the area now known as New York and southeastern Canada.
“The Words That Come Before All Else,” as it is named in the Onondaga language, are expressed uniquely yet similarly in many indigenous nations. It is spoken before gatherings.
The lengthy address describes thankfulness for our Mother Earth, waters, fish, birds, and plant life, especially in the form of food and medicine. It expresses thanks for the winds, the sun and moon, and the Great Spirit or Creator.
The address also stipulates a culture of reciprocity that is bound to gratitude.
“Just as all beings have a duty to me, I have a duty to them,” explains Kimmerer. “If an animal gives its life to feed me, I am in turn bound to support its life. If I receive a stream’s gift of pure water, then I am responsible for returning a gift in kind.
“An integral part of a human’s education is to know those duties and how to perform them.”
Kimmerer observes that, “You can’t listen to the Thanksgiving Address without feeling wealthy.”
The result of recognizing abundance rather than scarcity can be a feeling of contentment. This may be at odds with our consumer society, but it can lead to a richer life.
Indeed, retired Westmont Professor Jane Taylor Wilson’s study of gratitude showed that practicing gratitude improved students’ focus and resilience.
I encourage you to witness the next sunrise or sunset outside, if you can. Observe that you are not alone. Be grateful for the surrounding sounds of this moment: people walking, jogging, biking, or driving; birds winging by; palms saluting the sunrise or sunset; or ants on their ceaseless march.
Be grateful for those who celebrate this holy season and grateful for the enrichment to our lives by those who have other spiritual practices. Be grateful you are here and recognize the duty of your being here.
Read the original in Noozhawk here.
Karen Telleen-Lawton, Noozhawk Columnist
Karen Telleen-Lawton is an eco-writer, sharing information and insights about economics and ecology, finances and the environment. Having recently retired from financial planning and advising, she spends more time exploring the outdoors — and reading and writing about it. The opinions expressed are her own.
