A Hard Question For What Could Be A Hard Day
A Hard Question For What Could Be A Hard Day
This week we are invited to ask and answer the question, what are you thankful for?
What a hard question for what could be a hard day.
This question, might lead you to one of two places.
Maybe this question leads you to rattle off a handful of blessings.
Or things that you love.
Or people that love you.
Or dogs that you know.
Or maybe this question leads you to drop your head in pain or frustration.
Maybe you aren’t looking forward to Thanksgiving.
Perhaps it’s a day that brings pain or a wave of questions or conflict.
Or maybe you are gluten free and it’s just torture with all the stuffing and pies and rolls.
I don’t have all the right words to say, but maybe I can remind you of this:
We are glad you are here.
We are glad you are at the table.
We are thankful for you.
. . .
There have been days when the last thing I was was .. thankful.
In February I released a poem called, A Poem About The Things I Love.
Essentially, this poem is my answer to the question, what are you thankful for?
Before this was a poem it was a journal entry.
I sat down and simply wrote a list of things I was thankful for.
Something about seeing the things I was thankful for and the things that I loved on a piece of paper helped me breathe easier.
And maybe that’s what you need to do today.
Or yesterday.
And maybe again tomorrow.
Give it a try.
Write down the things that you are thankful for.
.. .. ..
A Poem About The Things I Love
I love poems that begin the same way they end.
I love full circles, like returning to where I began and seeing the leaves turn from green, to brown, to ground, to green again.
I love basketball, the feel of the ball, the sound of squeaking shoes, but what I love most is how it reminds me of my dad.
How after mowing the lawn we would shoot hoops in the street below the Florida sun, just father and son.
I love the smell of rain and the haunting sight of dark clouds.
I love deja vu.
I love deja vu.
And I love food that makes me hurt.
If you listen carefully you can hear the bells of Taco Bell ringing and my stomach is ready to start singing.
I love feeling home in an empty room.
And I love when you text me and I wish you’d do it more.
I love when the windows are down and the music is loud.
I love black coffee, Ethiopian pour over if you will, but diner coffee will always taste like Saturday mornings at the Townhouse as we’d watch the chickens cross the road.
I love dogs and most days I wish I was one.
I love words and how they can move us and heal us and shake us and shift us and leave us different.
I love front porches and rocking chairs and rocking with you without being distracted by our phones.
And I love romantic comedies and i don’t know why and i don’t care if you don’t, but do you remember in How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days when we knew what was going to happen but didn’t know how?
I liked that.
I love couches that hold you like a baby.
And it goes without saying because I am a breathing human being,
but I love chips and queso.
I love road trips and carpet and spicy chicken sandwiches from Chick-Fil-A and that’s all I have to say.
Except,
I love when we are together.
The heavy loneliness melts away and you’re the light that welcomes me home to stay.
The hands that wrap warmth around and the look in your eyes is a gift that keeps this list long.
And for a moment I’m no longer stressed out or bummed out,
I’m just happy to be here.
With you, I’m just happy to be here.
I love poems that begin the same way they end.
//
much love,
tanner olson
written to speak
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