It’s here. The day, or one of them, that gets hyped up for weeks in advance. If you believe everything you hear and see, you’d think we’re required to endure complicated travel, obligated to spend the day or weekend with people we may or may not connect with, stare transfixed at a screen bringing us parading inflatables, eat until we feel sick, and pass out while staring at the screen again as men give each other TBIs on a field.

It’s possible you don’t want any or all of that in a normal year. This is not a normal year. It’s not a “new normal” year.

The smart, scientifically-informed thing to do is avoid gathering indoors with those outside your “household,” whatever that entails these days. I know there’s a name for it, but I’m staying away from cutesy lingo made up for our fallow year.

While it’s absolutely possible to have safe activities outdoors, there are lots of moving parts. Does that semi-racist uncle who you know still voted for T%$^p believe that Covid-19 is a hoax, and will he be trying to hug you? Will the swarm of kids keep their germs a few meters away, or will they be jumping on you? If everyone can get creative, but also be trusted to respect each others’ health and space, then nobody needs to cancel anything.

But if you’re like me, you know there are a few wildcards in the mix. There’s nothing magical about the last Thursday in Thanksgiving that can’t be replicated on another day when the risk is not nearly as high.

(We’re going to skip over how problematic the Thanksgiving myths are, but you can go elsewhere to read about that.)

All week we’ve been talking about what is on one hand coping with the trickiness of a pandemic during holidays, and what is on the other, essentially the ability to thrive while being alone.

(I should remind everyone that I am not a psychologist, and if you are still struggling, go get you some therapy; no, self-medicating with booze and drugs does not count.)

Besides making yourself a soundtrack, being selective about what kinds of media you consume, and learning how to love your own company, what is important and recommended by just about anyone who’s anyone (Oprah) is taking on an attitude of gratitude.

We’ll get back to that in a second. Start with some basic reframing. When I clocked out of work yesterday, instead of going into “it’s Thanksgiving” mode, I walked down the hallway singing this:

Pure and simple, I have a vacation. I can choose how to spend it. Cleaning the house or watching Schitt’s Creek again or enjoying my pumpkin pie. There are no rules except for the big one: act in ways that won’t harm other people or myself on this long weekend.

Now back to that gratitude.

Isn’t that what this whole day is supposed to be about anyway? I mean, it says it right in the name.

Keeping a journal in general is good practice. It gives you a place to dump your thoughts that is not on another person, or worse, Twitter. If I were the incoming POTUS, I would be super classy and give T%$^p a fancy schmancy gold-plated journal as a parting gift so that he would have a place to work out his feelings.

Anyway, using a journal to write down what you are grateful for, every single day, shifts a person’s perspective. There are all kinds of “November gratitude challenges” out there that offer prompts. Here are a few of my own:

  • If you can read this, you can already name three things for which you can be grateful. What are they?
  • What was the worst job you’ve ever had? In what ways can you thankful for that experience?
  • How can solitude serve you?
  • Describe (in your journal, maybe with a codename) a challenging person you know. Try to name one or two redeeming qualities this person has, and what you can learn from them.

There’s always time in the day to throw ideas onto a page. Do it the minute you wake up. Or if you’re about to turn on the television, tell yourself you need to write three things in your notebook before starting up with Jeopardy. If you’re sharing household space, establish boundaries with those roommates. They are not entitled to every last minute of your time, even if they came out of your womb.

The next phase is to express your gratitude with others.

Newsflash: This does not need to happen indoors, around a table that uses a dead bird as its centerpiece. This could take place outside, with nobody holding hands or anywhere near each others’ germs.

You can include words of thanks in holiday cards, so that there is something more memorable than a pre-written card with your name signed arriving in a cousin’s mailbox.

Less elegant, but email and text work too. I have a friend who, after a group Zoom session, will send individual texts acknowledging something specific that each person said together. While this might not say the words “Thanks for ___ ___ ___,” it clearly shows that she was listening. That is absolute kindness in a time when too many are multitasking their way through life, not fully listening to anyone else.

Do the old school thing and dial (or more realistically, “dial”) a friend, even if it means sending a text first to ask if this is acceptable.

At work we have an anonymous suggestion box that also doubles as a “give props” box. Each month the notes are read at the all-staff meeting. There are occasional suggestions (usually me trying to convince everyone that we should have a deep fryer in the lunch room), but mostly there are kind notes thanking staff, by name, for specific contributions they have made. This means that entry-level staff receive recognition, which is something I have rarely seen happen, if at all, at other organizations. This practice can easily be adopted as it costs nothing except for the pen/pencil and five minutes of time each month.

Take the time to thank businesses and organizations too. Go out of your way to do this if you are someone who enjoys griping when people fall short of your expectations. Recognize those who are doing a good job. I’ll start: Story and Soil Coffee has been consistent and responsible when it comes to Covid-19 precautions, showing that they put the health of their staff and customers ahead of profits. This means that I can treat myself to a delicious espresso drink once in awhile without experiencing loads of pandemic anxiety over it.

I am grateful to Real Hartford readers, the new ones and those who have been coming back since 2007, even as I have modified the kind of content I publish here.

Although there is much to not love about this pandemic, I am grateful to be employed, to have a human-centered employer who puts the physical safety and mental health of staff before preconceived ideas about how work always must be regimented, to have health insurance (finally!). I am grateful to have shelter. Although grocery shopping can feel irritating these days, I can afford healthy food and know how to cook it; even though I miss dining in restaurants, I am not flailing as a result. I’m grateful to have been raised such that my entertainment was always my own responsibility; this means that I am not easily bored and if I start to feel that way, it passes quickly because I immediately work to resolve that or take a much-needed nap.