A Thanksgiving

To have a hand in the darkness, or a still voice inquiring about your day, even a dismissive eye roll at your anticipated joke, these are the only required components for a thankful life; all else is but a pale reflection of a dim sunset in a curtained corner window. Were but the day not necessary to halt us in our collective haste, that the calendar should not chime the occasion for us to artificially pause in appraisal of our life’s balance. That thanksgiving could be exchanged for an unwieldy dose of awareness of whatever already satisfies us. As a stranger in your land, I only ask that you consider that the things which bind you to your life are proven only in the moments in which you doubt them the most. – X

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