Friday Dispatch: Thoughts on "Thank You"

Plus two pay-from-the-heart offerings

Friday greetings,

Yesterday, I sat at a table with my kids, niece and nephew, parents, one sister, brother-in-law, three first cousins, three cousins-in-law, five first cousins once removed (or are they second cousins? I always need a chart!), one aunt, one uncle, and two guests. We spanned four generations, ranging in age from 2 to 82.

I’d venture to guess I wasn’t the only one choked up after my dad’s toast, which invited us to reflect on the relationship between the words “generation” and “generativity.” (I come by it honestly, friends!)

I read a poem that Rabbi Evan Schultz had posted on Wednesday:

I cannot define gratitude
it is like describing love
or the scent of a rose
but I know it is there
even in the broken days
within me each moment
as I read of my lifetime
over morning coffee
and quiet stars at night
to see what I offered back
to my parents and children
strangers and neighbors
my partner and friends
so perhaps tomorrow
I can smile and laugh
as I hold the gratitude
and say thank you, todah.

Rereading it now, I see that his poem’s “tomorrow” meant Thanksgiving. When I read it yesterday, his “tomorrow” became today.

This practice of gratitude carries us forward, as each day tips into the next on the ever-turning wheel of time. It also helps us slow down, lest we forget gratitude in the rush of to-do lists, the sheer force of auto-pilot, and the negative bias that can, if we’re not vigilant, overtake us.

I am not talking about ignoring “the broken days,” the predicaments and complexities of our personal journeys, and the painful scourges of war, hatred, poverty, hunger, and cruelty in the world. On the contrary, turning to gratitude offers a foundation for meeting these needs with presence and perspective.

In Jewish tradition, we begin each day with “thank you” for a reason.

Our eyes open. We reacquaint ourselves with breath and body, which miraculously maintain themselves with or without our consciousness. If we are able, we place our feet on the floor. We notice the temperature in the room. Maybe we are hungry or thirsty. Maybe we wake with excitement about something in the day to come, maybe with a sense of dread, maybe with wisps of dreams, maybe with an avalanche of anxiety, maybe with a sense of well-being and peace, maybe with an ache of missing or a full heart or a swirl of conflicted emotions that could color your whole outlook.

To start the day with gratitude means to acknowledge it all. Not to force something but to say: Ah! All of this, whatever is here, means I am alive. And to be alive means to have the opportunity to decide: How will I choose to begin this day?

Saying “thank you” lies completely within our control. It does not rely on any external conditions.

This makes me think about how profound this practice is. I mean, it sounds so simple, and on a simple level, is simple: Wake up, say thank you. Easy peasy.

But of course, whoever came up with this prayer of gratitude and decided these should be the very first words we utter in the morning must have understood that it would not necessarily be easy. Or rather, it would be so easy to forget that it better be written down somewhere, instructed even.

No matter what is happening in the world, these words tell us, start here.
No matter what is happening in your life, the words prod, start here.

Just before I turned out the light on my nightstand, I wrote a few words of my own:

Grateful for gratitude
when it arises unbidden

Grateful for gratitude
when it requires coaxing

Grateful for gratitude
first thing and last thing

Grateful for gratitude
and all of its cousins

Grateful for gratitude
not a given but a gift.

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Black Friday

So, it didn’t even occur to me to drum up some special discount for Black Friday. While I am not above partaking in a Very Good Deal, I don’t particularly enjoy the accompanying frenzy or deluge of ads and emails, the urgent ONE DAY ONLY energy.

That said, I have two things coming up in December, not so much “sales” as offerings. If I were to sum them up, I would choose this Wendell Berry line: “Ask the questions that have no answers." (Scroll to the end of this email to hear a wonderful reading of the whole poem.)

Here they are!

Join me for my first Jewish Studio Project practicum as I work towards my Creative Facilitator Training certification!

We all contain inner light. It might flicker and waver. Sometimes, we may even feel we don’t have enough oil – energy, juice, momentum, motivation, hope – to keep going. This time of year invites us to enter the darkness with intention and to explore what purpose shines within.

Details & registration: www.jenaschwartz.com/shiningalight

One of my favorite occasional things is offering pay-from-the-heart coaching sessions.

This next round is December 16-20, just in time for the last days before Solstice. If it feels like a good time to burrow into an hour of connecting with the questions or curiosities about writing + life that may be awaiting your attention, come schedule an hour with me! After you pay, you’ll be directed to a link to my online calendar.

Sign up here: https://app.moonclerk.com/pay/5vsxswpntbx1

If you have questions about either of these offerings, don’t hesitate to hit “reply” or leave a comment.

Shabbat Shalom and love,

Jena

p.s. I have lowered the monthly subscription to $5. If you look forward to these Dispatches each week, please consider becoming a paid subscriber!

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