The Land of Plenty
With the passage of time, we all come to our own understanding of what matters and what does not. I am not so naive as to think that we all value the same things or that we value the same things at all stages of our lives. Like all aspects of our constantly changing lives, what matters to us at one age is likely quite different from what matters to us at another age.
This morning I was doing what I always do during the Thanksgiving week, which is to start the process of preparing and sending my holiday cards. Even though I have been more pragmatic in culling my list for people who have fallen by the wayside in my life, as I have fallen by the wayside in other people’s lives, I still have about 150 cards that I feel I want to send out. It has all gotten easier in that we prepare a spreadsheet with our names and addresses and the card company produces pre-addressed envelopes with pre-printed return addresses filled with our pre-printed card designed to reflect the joys of our year and the hopes for the coming year. All I have to do is put a short salutation on the card, perhaps the briefest of messages (the pre-printed card gives out the basics of our annual update…at least as much as anyone really wants to know in the few moments they will likely focus on our holiday card), and then sign the card. The only other bit of personalization is that I do lick each envelope (I will have to look into self-sealing envelopes next year).
But the process of sending my holiday cards has less to do with the physical card and more to do with the process of thinking about everyone on my list as I personalize their card ever so slightly. This reflection starts with the simple mental review of anyone on the list that I can recall may have moved address over the year. I sent out perhaps a dozen emails today asking for address updates. I’m not fooling anyone, they all know why someone is asking for their address at this time of year. But at least they know that I care about staying up-to-date on their whereabouts. I even called a few people on my list and figured that everyone has a moment or two to spare this week. And that is all a nice part of the process, but I find that the personal reflection of the people on my list is the real value to me. We all live our lives in some version of a fast lane that doesn’t afford us the ability to think enough about the people we care about. My list of 150 is made up of mostly people I care about. There are still a few people on the list that I think I must care about, but they get fewer and fewer each year. Eventually my list will be purified and distilled down to only those who I truly care about, which is as it should be.
The list breaks down into several distinct categories worth considering. Family is the obvious starting place. The concentric circles of trust that are our families start at the nuclear and move outward to the obligatory. The most distant is the last wife of my long-dead father, who happens to live about ten miles from here. Given how much I moved around the world as a child, I only have two friends that pre-date college. There is then a sizable group of college friends and their spouses. Some are as friendly with me now as they were then, some less so and some more so. Life takes us all in different directions and the people we randomly connected with fifty years ago have all grown in their own ways. Among work friends, I have led a career that was not unlike my ever-changing upbringing, so, I curate friends from every chapter of that career. Some have stayed friends because we are of like mind, and some have stayed friends because we shared time and experiences, but they all mean something to me as I reflect fondly on the times we have spent together. There are neighbors past and present who have joined the ranks of friendship. Just this year we have added five to that list and probably lost two from past venues. And then the last category is the ever-present miscellaneous category, in my case dominated by motorcycling friends, with whom we bond quite closely given the intensity and duration of our trips, particularly the foreign ones.
As I reprise this list of mine, I find there are a dozen names on that list that I have had no communication with over the past year or more. So, why have I not removed those names from the list? I suspect that I regret that I have failed to reach out and stay in closer touch with those people and thus feel that it is incumbent on me to try to do so in the future. I am not unwilling to let go when it seems like the time has come to do so, but these are the choices we must all reflect on carefully.
This is Thanksgiving week and I know I have much to be thankful for. I see friends and family who have poor health, but I have mine. I know of friends who are unhappy in their circumstances, but I am very happy in mine. I have friends who seem unsure of where they feel most comfortable living, but I have found my place and am very pleased with it. I see friends who seem bored and lack purpose or relevance and I am thankful each and every day that I remain engaged and motivated to continue in various forms of work. I teach and that is always filled with a sense of accomplishment. I challenge myself with each new case for which I sign on as an expert giving testimony about what is and is not righteous in business activities. But my greatest satisfaction comes in the menial acts of yard work around the house that allow me to sit back and remember that honest work is the best reward unto itself.
I don’t know what I plan to do tomorrow to fill my morning. The afternoon will be when we all gather for our Thanksgiving meal. I may do something I rarely do and take a walk around the neighborhood. I do not want to work and I have no stories that desperately need telling. I will watch the Macy’s Parade in hope of catching a glimpse of my granddaughters in the stands, but then I will be at loose ends. I will make a few calls to family, but those only take a moment or two. I think I will need to find a simple way to fill the rest of my day without dirtying my clothes or wearing myself down.
We live in a land of plenty. We live in a time of plenty. I have the privilege of having been given plenty. I have the even greater privilege of having been fortunate in life and been granted plenty. Unlike some, I do not for a moment think that I deserved everything that I have been given in life. None of us should. We should be humble enough to simply be grateful and understand that whatever hard work we have put into the process is itself a privilege.