I’m writing in the car with the “Mourning Moon” hanging outside my car window. It’s the last full moon before the Winter Solstice, and in Pagan traditions this symbolizes the final letting go of belongings or feelings or unnecessary things before the winter months. I really like this thought, because it emphasizes that in a time of gratitude we assess not only the things we have but also the things we need and what we can release. That can include physical objects but also grief or pain we need to let go of. At this point I’m not going to go into my list of things I can let go, because it will linger and sit on this website which is the exact opposite of what the mourning moon is for. I’d rather list out some points of gratitude for Thanksgiving, since we are probably all sitting around with turkey in our gut and pillows behind our head.
There are a whole slew of thanks that I could give, starting from the simplest of things: a bed, a blanket, a pillow. However, I’d rather talk about the smaller things, the details of life that give it all its shape and form and grace. They are similar to the details that I love finding in my SNAP phone calls: a joke about the early morning, the man giving thanks for waking up each morning, how much a woman loves the porch on her apartment. So here are the little things I find in the Sycamore House that bring me great joy:
Hearing the steam heat in my room rattle like a Rastafarian man playing bongo drums
Jim from the church quickly coming over to our house to fix the leak in our bathroom
Rick (Olivia’s fiancé) fixing our vacuum cleaner and then vacuuming the whole house in one afternoon
When our whole house went dancing, Kaitie and Christa pretended to play a rousing game of Poker as a dance move.
Mini congregations in the hallway around Christa’s door some nights, all of us lumped on the floor atop each other
The sunrise in Maryland
Watching Emily so delicately and passionately lead a discussion on conversation therapy and the Church
Running in the rain with Claire, stopping where the drops of rain tip tapped against the curved Sycamore leaves along the trail, feeling the wind blow against us and laughing as the river covered over in fog.
Reading that a client at work has been approved for food stamps approved for food stamps
Sheana reading her “I Am From” entry
Olivia’s stories about Pennsylvania’s dairy industry and her constant work shenanigans
Glenn and his Cracklin’ Oat Bran
I am thankful in a big way for the support this house has given me. I know that at any given moment I have a shoulder to cry on, a friend to prank, someone who I can lie on their floor and talk to. There is an abundance within the community of the house, in St. Stephen’s, and in Harrisburg.
We hope that you all are warm and loved on this Thanksgiving. If you are reading this post, then know that we are thankful for you and your care. We are thankful for your support.