- Thomas Merton
* * *
A few years ago a friend told me her family's thanksgiving tradition was for everyone to spend some time that day making a list of 100 things they were thankful for, and then sharing them with each other later, around the meal.
I've remembered that often, and even tried it once or twice, but this year it occurred to me that I am thankful for all the people I know... and that's probably over 100. This year my mission is to tell every person I have a current connection with that I'm thankful for their presence in my life.
Some of you might say, hey, that's what you did for your birthday, and it was weird back then.
To you, I say: 1. it never hurts to tell someone you value them, and 2. it's already been six months, they may have forgotten.
There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.
- C.S. Lewis
If you are reading this, I am thankful for you, too. Whether we're enemies, or friends, or only met once... I have learned something from you, my life is richer because of you, and I remember you. Thank you.
* * *
Update:
So I've written 70 of the 100 notes I intended to write: I've written emails, sent snapchats, sent text messages, and made hand-written notes. I've fantasized about phone calls, but it hasn't happened yet. Uff. Let me tell you, it's been tiring. After 39 or so, I didn't want to do any more. But has definitely been a very interesting journey.
I've found myself feeling so vulnerable, so exposed, that I started explaining to people what I'm doing, in an attempt to feel less awkward. There's something about that level of sincerity that makes me afraid I will come across as needy or awkward, or just plain strange. Afraid my attempt to tell people what they mean to me, or how beautiful they are, will backfire and sound like a cry for attention. Seriously - after writing about 40, I felt like I had skinned my heart, flayed it open for everyone to see. It was raw. It was scary. I wasn't sure if I'd rather people reply, because then I'd know I hadn't been dismissed, or if I'd rather they didn't, because when they did I felt so embarrassed.
But, my discomfort notwithstanding, I've had some truly amazing responses. Coworkers have hugged me. One lady said she's going to print my email and read it every day because she wants to be the person I described. Many people responded with thankfulness, affection, and surprise. Another person even wrote a similar note back to me.
I still have a ways to go: some of the notes I haven't written yet are for some of the most important people in my life. But so far I have really enjoyed reflecting on the difference each person makes in my life, and what I learn from them, and how I see God reflected in who they are. It's been good to do this especially with people I don't particularly like, because I've realized some new things about them. It's also been good to reflect on people who are kind of peripheral in my life, because they have a big impact too.
Over the years I've started paying attention to how often I think of people I've known throughout the day, and it's amazing to me how often I think of people that I haven't seen in ages. Overwhelmingly I am realizing that every person you know shapes your world a little. In German there's this word, "prägen," which literally means stamped, as in minted, embossed or coined. It took me months to understand this word in context, but eventually I figured out that people were saying that they had been stamped or shaped by something. I like the connotation of metal being shaped, because metal, though fluid, is also rigid. Once you've been "geprägt," that shaping probably won't change for a while, at least until something else comes along and stamps over what's already there, or gradually smooths it out. People affect me like that. We emboss each other (it sounds so much sillier in English! ha!).
Anyway. Gotta get going on the notes I've still got left! I am not sure how often I'll do this, but I think I'm going to make it a semi-regular practice. At the very least so that I can acknowledge all the people who've loved me into being.
Update #2:
Bonus to this whole adventure: being in my friend's homes, or looking over at coworkers' desks, and seeing that they kept my words and hung them up on their walls or refrigerators.... Places where they're easy to see and remember.
* * *
Update:
So I've written 70 of the 100 notes I intended to write: I've written emails, sent snapchats, sent text messages, and made hand-written notes. I've fantasized about phone calls, but it hasn't happened yet. Uff. Let me tell you, it's been tiring. After 39 or so, I didn't want to do any more. But has definitely been a very interesting journey.
I've found myself feeling so vulnerable, so exposed, that I started explaining to people what I'm doing, in an attempt to feel less awkward. There's something about that level of sincerity that makes me afraid I will come across as needy or awkward, or just plain strange. Afraid my attempt to tell people what they mean to me, or how beautiful they are, will backfire and sound like a cry for attention. Seriously - after writing about 40, I felt like I had skinned my heart, flayed it open for everyone to see. It was raw. It was scary. I wasn't sure if I'd rather people reply, because then I'd know I hadn't been dismissed, or if I'd rather they didn't, because when they did I felt so embarrassed.
But, my discomfort notwithstanding, I've had some truly amazing responses. Coworkers have hugged me. One lady said she's going to print my email and read it every day because she wants to be the person I described. Many people responded with thankfulness, affection, and surprise. Another person even wrote a similar note back to me.
I still have a ways to go: some of the notes I haven't written yet are for some of the most important people in my life. But so far I have really enjoyed reflecting on the difference each person makes in my life, and what I learn from them, and how I see God reflected in who they are. It's been good to do this especially with people I don't particularly like, because I've realized some new things about them. It's also been good to reflect on people who are kind of peripheral in my life, because they have a big impact too.
Over the years I've started paying attention to how often I think of people I've known throughout the day, and it's amazing to me how often I think of people that I haven't seen in ages. Overwhelmingly I am realizing that every person you know shapes your world a little. In German there's this word, "prägen," which literally means stamped, as in minted, embossed or coined. It took me months to understand this word in context, but eventually I figured out that people were saying that they had been stamped or shaped by something. I like the connotation of metal being shaped, because metal, though fluid, is also rigid. Once you've been "geprägt," that shaping probably won't change for a while, at least until something else comes along and stamps over what's already there, or gradually smooths it out. People affect me like that. We emboss each other (it sounds so much sillier in English! ha!).
Anyway. Gotta get going on the notes I've still got left! I am not sure how often I'll do this, but I think I'm going to make it a semi-regular practice. At the very least so that I can acknowledge all the people who've loved me into being.
Update #2:
Bonus to this whole adventure: being in my friend's homes, or looking over at coworkers' desks, and seeing that they kept my words and hung them up on their walls or refrigerators.... Places where they're easy to see and remember.
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