Since 5:15 AM, I have been thinking about this blog post. I knew thanksgiving would be the topic, but what about the "meat" of the post, the wording? What could I say that I (and, I guess, many) haven't said before, and that others perhaps aren't thinking about on this day?
I'm still thinking. Here goes. We are our own "tiny island." No matter the size of our houses, bank accounts (and, unfortunately, our debts), the titles attained in our jobs, the depth we sense of our failures, and so on, we are all part of one big group, living beings. But still, we are our own island. I'm sitting with my wife now, simultaneously typing these words, and thinking about many things, some that I mentioned in the prior paragraph. There is, however, one thought that often runs through my mind that supersedes all others. It's a miracle of life that, this and every morning, I wake up. How really simple that is, and often taken for granted, but it's true. And the extension of that miracle, and maybe more significant, is how my heart - a muscle -- keeps beating, and my lungs are supplied with air. While I sleep, I still live, and then I wake up, place both feet on the floor. I'm alive for another minute, hour, day...I hope. And I'm in charge of my island, governing it as I wish. Perhaps the above seems so simple, but why shouldn't it be? Is it not most important? It is, to me. It's my thanks-giving. Steve
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Steve Sears is a New Jersey based freelance writer
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