38 - Giving Thanks

More barely edited scribbles, this time prompted by a suggestion to 'explore the range of associations and misassociations of a familiar word'. Having been invited to a Thanksgiving meal tomorrow night, this is what I came up with. As always, I apologise.

There’s a lot what you’re given that you don’t want in the first place. You get given it before you get a chance to say you don’t want it. Being given what you never asked for, you may as well price up your eyes. Price up your eyes and let them sink into this land, a higher place than you’ll ever stand. This is going nowhere; perhaps I’d best focus on the thanks- rather than the –giving.

Oh, I cant find the words or means to express the thanks I feel. Mostly I’d like to repay those who’ve seen me be so lacking in thanks, those I’ve ridden past full of spitting anger. Could I suck back up into myself the ingratitude? Is there a way that I could reverse myself, ride backwards round the corner to express my contrition? I feel contrite, I feel contrite, I feel contrite, till I almost bump into a pedestrian.

“Give me that bicycle” you might say. This is where we’d reach an impasse, you and me. The problem is my bike means a lot to me and when the chips go down then I have to say they’re worth nothing against these two wheels. Of course I curse it when the chain gets stuck. Such a poor design! But I love the freedom it affords me. I couldn’t thank you in a moment like this. I imagine myself all scratching nails and hissing insults. Forgive me. Thanks again for your understanding.

Thank-youse go hand in hand with sorries for me. In fact, almost every aspect of life comes holding Sorry’s hand. I am, in the end, sorry that I haven’t thanked enough. Let’s go round again. On this second lap of the neighbourhood, sweeping corners, brushing past traffic lights and gliding over zebra crossings, I won’t begrudge you a look at my wheels. We can exchange a word or two. I say thanks for being here in this beautiful moment and you say that you’re just as thankful as I am and we give this moment to ourselves.

The truth is it’s an alien concept. I would like to sit often, perhaps in praying pose, and express those thanks that do actually need to be given, but I forget. Not only that but I get all mooded up. Now the time to do the grateful bit: I am grateful to have more time in which to experience this brilliant mess, this lung-heaving beauty of a world. I pay my respects for being included, a speck of flotsam tossed on the waves of chaos.

The background, I should mention, means little to me, though, working as an English teacher I have had to learn the American myths to pass them on to children in Germany and Taiwan. We are thankful for these colourful stories. Without American English there would be few exciting moments to base lessons on. There is, after all, only so much meaning that non-British people can see in ‘Remember, remember the fifth of November’ or ‘yes, fish and chips is considered a meal’. Let’s bow our heads and give thanks.