What are you thankful for?
It’s a question many people ask this time of year, before tucking into a holiday feast.
Discovering something I or my characters feel gratitude for, when we’re on the verge of losing it can release a flow of poetry or prose, especially when it’s truly precious.
How sinister and ominous it feels, writing of such loss. Most of us hope never to face such jeopardy, let alone such loss. Too many of us will.
If we can save or protect whatever was in danger, we may experience a wave of gratitude for our whatever (or whomever) we realize we value. A recognition of how fortunate we are washes over us.
If we fail, if we lose whatever we had, an overwhelming sense of loss crashes down upon us.
Maybe anger will fill the void, anger toward whatever (or whomever) took what we lost.
I’ve always found it hard to be grateful for what I took for granted. I might have felt safe, warm, content, secure in a way I seldom am these days…but not grateful.
It’s only when I realize fragile those things are, that I discover how precious they are, how lucky I am to have them.
Life, liberty, loved ones, and happiness are treasures I’ve been fortunate to have, so fortunate they became every day.
It’s easy to forget the every day are treasures. I have to keep reminding myself of that.
Treasures can be lost. Treasures can be taken away.
Too often we have to fight for treasures, even when we feel ill-equipped to do so.
May I find the strength our characters find in fiction to defend them, when I do.