Reduce, simplify, share
Finding clarity in a season of celebration with a complex history and a problematic present.
In the traditions I was born into, this weekend is marked by feasts of thanksgiving. Thanks to vaccinations, carefulness, and good weather in our region, I was able to join two small family gatherings. The gift of time together, always valuable, seems extra precious this year.
Our mythologies about the origins of this holiday mask some dark realities about the early relationships between European arrivals on this continent and the indigenous people already here. And I learned that the Thanksgiving holiday itself is rooted in the dynamics of our civil war, a way of rallying the Northerners to sustain their commitment to the cause. The simple stories of sharing and caring are only part of the truth; as with all human-created narratives, there are overlapping and complex meanings. In the midst of it all, it can be tough to find clarity.
One part of our conversations stands out, however. At both gatherings, we all described our desire to have less “stuff,” and more time. The harvest celebrations that are part of many historical cultures were less about indulgence and more about acknowledging the hard work of food production, and the hope that the stores of produce would last until the next growing season. Most folk would not have had enough to flood their family and friends with gifts of purchased, manufactured items. That phenomenon is a direct result of the shift to a consumer economy, and the way it requires us to shop and spend to support the transfer of wealth upward. As we age, we realize just how little “stuff” we need, and how much more valuable relationships are.
For me, this is becoming an organizing principle: reduce, simplify, share. It’s hard to shift an entire economy in a single season, of course. But the more we return to the roots of celebrating harvest, sharing with those in need, and working hard to keep the community thriving through the lean times, the healthier our economy, our planet, and our bodies will be.
I wish you lots of time with loved ones, and enough of everything you need to thrive until spring brings new abundance.