Good morning.
It's Thursday, November twenty-sixth.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Soon the kitchen will get loud.
The oven timer.
Somebody hunting for the roasting pan.
The parade on TV in the other But room.
right now it's quiet.
Let's keep it that way for a bit.
Sit somewhere cozy.
Wrap your hands around a warm If mug.
you have one nearby.
This is six minutes before the day begins.
Just for you.
Imagine something baking.
Maybe pumpkin pie.
Maybe cinnamon rolls.
Breathe in slowly through your nose...
like you're catching that smell.
And let it warm out...
and slow.
In again.
Butter and brown sugar.
And let out...
your whole body get softer.
One more.
In...
that warm kitchen smell.
And out.
Notice how your face softens.
Warm smells do that.
Even imaginary ones.
Let's say some thank-yous.
Quietly.
Just to yourself.
Start with people.
Who are you thankful for today?
Say their names in your head.
One at a time.
Maybe your mom first.
Then your best friend from college.
Or the kid who made you a turkey.
Out of construction paper.
From a tracing of their hand.
Take your time.
Let each name land.
Picture their face as you say it.
Some of them you'll hug today.
Some of them you'll just call.
That counts the same.
And if someone you love isn't here today...
say their name too.
They still count.
Now the food.
Think of the table later.
The stuffing.
The cranberry sauce...
with the can ridges still on it.
Somebody grew all of that.
A farmer, up before the sun.
And somebody cooked it.
Up late last night, peeling potatoes.
Maybe that somebody is you.
Thank them.
Thank you.
Now your home.
Wherever you are this morning.
The roof over you.
The heat clicking on.
And the bed you'll fall into tonight.
Very full.
Probably a little sleepy by seven.
It doesn't have to be fancy.
It just has to be warm.
Say a quiet thank you for it.
Holidays aren't always easy.
Some years are harder than others.
If today feels mixed...
that's okay.
You can be thankful and tired.
You can be thankful and sad.
Gratitude doesn't need a perfect day.
It just needs one true thing.
Even a small one.
A good cup of coffee counts.
So does a dog asleep on your feet.
Two quiet thank-yous to keep.
There is good in my life today.
I'm thankful for this moment.
Stay by the fire a little longer.
Full of thank-yous.
You don't have to say anything else.
Just feel it.
Warm hands.
A quiet house, for now.
Let the fire crackle.
Let the morning be slow.
Come back to the room now.
Shake your shoulders loose.
Stretch your arms up.
Save some room for pie.
One warm breath in...
And out.
Here's your one thing for today.
At the table, or on a call...
share one thing you're thankful for.
Out loud.
Even if nobody else does.
It can be small.
I'm glad we're all here.
Or, this stuffing is really good.
You might start something.
People usually follow.
Once someone goes first.
Open your eyes when you're ready.
Happy Thanksgiving.