When I was growing up, the US holiday of Thanksgiving was surrounded by a lovely legend of two different types of people coming together for survival in a harsh winter. It was a tale of mutual respect. In this tale, the Pilgrims didn’t try convert the indigenous people, but learned from them. The Wampanoag tribe didn’t challenge the strangers in their land, but befriended them. It’s a lovely tale, and George Washington signed in a national holiday around it.

Historians challenge this tale and there is now a lot of controversy. The real story is not as simple or as nice as the one we get in A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. It’s filled with all the complications and ugliness that seems to be present in any time we look at the real events and actions of our ancestors rather than the legend.

Added to that are the gatherings of families, with all their own imperfections and oppositions. As I write this, I am visiting my family, where I hover somewhere on the edge of being a perpetual 16-year-old. It takes a strong force of will to be my own man in this environment, and most of it is actually in my own head. Others deal with major clashes in areas of politics, religion, sexuality, work ethics, and pretty much every other possible way to differ. Why don’t we just call the whole thing off?

And, yet, I think there is something truly valuable in having a holiday that is focused on giving thanks.

“But, why? We can give thanks any time we want! We don’t need some sort of national order to tell us to be thankful.”

This is true. We don’t need a specific holiday to make us thankful. In fact, articles, such as this one published by the Harvard Medical School, say that a regular regimen of gratitude has enormous benefits to our psychology and well-being. Furthermore, there is evidence, like what is referenced in this Forbes article, that suggest we shouldn’t wait for things to turn out well to begin expressing our gratitude. We can, and should, be giving thanks every day.

For that matter, we don’t really need the wheel of the year. We don’t need a Yule festival to think of the light returning, renewal, and resurrection. We don’t need a Dia de las Muertos to think of our ancestors and to connect with their essence. We don’t need a New Year celebration to make resolutions for change. We can do these every day. Nevertheless, these traditional points in time cause us to reflect on these areas of our life. We get to put extra effort and focus into the idea. If it’s something that we’re not doing so well, it gives a target for making improvements. It’s a time for a do-over. We can dedicate ourselves to doing better from this point forward, and the traditions help us to focus our intent. The legends surrounding these holidays also help instruct us about how to embrace and act on the ideas we want to improve, even if they are apocryphal.

So far, I’ve done a good job of not talking too much about politics and lifestyle choices at my family gathering. I also notice that, personally, I need to up my gratitude game and will use this day to propel me into better habits. Here are things I’m going to start doing. Feel free to steal.

• I will be sending out a load of hand-written Thank You cards next week, some of which are way overdue. I don’t think there’s a statute of limitations on thanking people, though.
• I’m going to start a ritual of gratitude. Many suggest a journal, and that might be a good idea. I will certainly begin a sort of meditation or devotional to reflect on things for which I am thankful.
• I’m going to be more proactive with my gratitude, being thankful for the opportunity for success, whether or not the conclusion is known. How many people never dare? How many people are unable or unwilling to try? That I am on my chosen path at all is worth some gratitude.
• I’m going to work harder on finding ways to let people in my life know that I am grateful for them. I am going to work harder to let them know that I see them.

I am grateful to you for taking the time to read my thoughts. I am grateful to you for your support on my path. I am grateful for living in a time where our minds can meet, no matter who or where we are.

I hope that you find your own way to renewed and robust gratitude going forward. If the prominent legends and icons that surround the holiday are trouble for you, select your own and apply them. You don’t have to raise up the ideas that you don’t agree with—but you will benefit from a day focused on thanks, which will lead you more and more to being truly thankful every day. We’ll see those results evolve as we achieve it together.

Perusing the Interwebs I came across this article from amusingplanet.com about the custom of sharing mourning news with the bees, who would then help to spread the word of someone’s passing. The practice expanded to sharing with the bees anything that you wanted to pass to the spirit world because they were able to pass between worlds.

I seem to be controversial sometimes when talking to other psychics and mediums about whether anyone has the ability to make these connections. My thinking is that anyone can throw a ball. You may not have the skill and accuracy to do it in a way that is generally useful for sports, but if you had a strong desire you could certainly exercise that ability. Of course, there will always be those who due to intense training and natural talent will always throw a ball better than you. Anyone can throw a ball, though.

I try to never discourage people about their own intuition and abilities to connect with spirit. There are many techniques that help people to explore and develop these things. Telling the bees is one of them. While our modern sensibilities may laugh at this as naive superstition, look at all that is going into this. There is an acceptance of death. There is an idea of continuance. There is an acknowledgement that there are forces at work that are bigger than any of us individually. There is a willingness to be open to mysteries. We don’t know how or why the bees carry these messages, but we allow that they will. I think that’s beautiful.

Of course, the bees have been struggling for some time. There are many environmental causes attributing to this decline in bee health and population, but could it also have something to do with our turning away from spirit? Would it make any difference if we were to enlist the bees again as metaphysical messengers? The gist of it all is recorded in this wonderful poem by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892) found in The Poetical Works in Four Volumes. 1892. It is presented here from bartleby.com.

Narrative and Legendary Poems
Telling the Bees

HERE is the place; right over the hill
  Runs the path I took;
You can see the gap in the old wall still,
  And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook.

There is the house, with the gate red-barred,
  And the poplars tall;
And the barn’s brown length, and the cattle-yard,
  And the white horns tossing above the wall.

There are the beehives ranged in the sun;
  And down by the brink
Of the brook are her poor flowers, weed-o’errun,
  Pansy and daffodil, rose and pink.

A year has gone, as the tortoise goes,
  Heavy and slow;
And the same rose blows, and the same sun glows,
And the same brook sings of a year ago.

There ’s the same sweet clover-smell in the breeze;
  And the June sun warm
Tangles his wings of fire in the trees,
  Setting, as then, over Fernside farm.

I mind me how with a lover’s care
  From my Sunday coat
I brushed off the burrs, and smoothed my hair,
  And cooled at the brookside my brow and throat.

Since we parted, a month had passed,—
  To love, a year;
Down through the beeches I looked at last
  On the little red gate and the well-sweep near.

I can see it all now,—the slantwise rain
  Of light through the leaves,
The sundown’s blaze on her window-pane,
  The bloom of her roses under the eaves.

Just the same as a month before,—
  The house and the trees,
The barn’s brown gable, the vine by the door,—
  Nothing changed but the hives of bees.

Before them, under the garden wall,
  Forward and back,
Went drearily singing the chore-girl small,
  Draping each hive with a shred of black.

Trembling, I listened: the summer sun
Had the chill of snow;
For I knew she was telling the bees of one
  Gone on the journey we all must go!

Then I said to myself, “My Mary weeps
  For the dead to-day:
Haply her blind old grandsire sleeps
  The fret and the pain of his age away.”

But her dog whined low; on the doorway sill,
  With his cane to his chin,
The old man sat; and the chore-girl still
  Sung to the bees stealing out and in.

And the song she was singing ever since
  In my ear sounds on:—
“Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence!
  Mistress Mary is dead and gone!”

1858.

When you are mourning someone, when you want to send a message to one who has crossed, try telling the bees.

“Fake it ’til you make it!” the wisdom goes. In other words: if you don’t feel like you are what you want to be, just act in the role and it will eventually become reality. Dress in the clothes. Talk the talk. Spend time with the people. Do the things. Pretend if you have to.

I’m a fan of this thinking, but I’ve decided that there is an even stronger idea. Cosplay yourself.

Cosplay is basically what we’ve all done on Halloween. You dress up as someone. But, for cosplayers, Halloween happens all year round. These people go to astounding lengths to bring their visions to life, which is much more in tune with what we are trying to accomplish with ourselves.

The problem with “faking it” is that you are fake. It has this aspect of being an imposter. The intention is to get you to be bold. As you are bold, you find that you actually were able to do the thing all along. Your powers come from within. But, sometimes we have problems getting over the fake part. 

I find that cosplayers provide some excellent inspirations for becoming. Maybe they will resonate with you, too.

1. You identify with what inspires you

When cosplayers come out, they connect with what inspires them. They seem to delight in being recognized as their characters. People call them by that name and take pictures with them. It’s OK if there are other Spidermen or Wonder Women. It’s OK that the costumes may come from different eras of the character. It’s OK if some costumes are more party quality than film quality. It’s all about honoring that vision as best as one can. 

We need to be true to the vision, and not worry about what others are doing, except to be inspired by them. It’s always about realizing the vision as well as you can. Even though the casual observer might see a group as all the same, the discerning observer will find the nuances that make us a special connection for them. Your variation, your uniqueness is an asset.

 2. It’s not about perfection

People bring varying degrees of resourcefulness and artistic skill to their creations. Even those attempts that are considered “bad” are recognized. People still take pictures. Do they know they don’t look like the costume in the movie? Of course, they do! While some of them might be considered extra-optimistic, they came out of the house; they took it out on the street. They let the mask lend them a little extra courage to let go and have fun with it. It was likely a positive, memorable experience. If nothing else, it was a day out of the dreary treadmill of the ordinary.

We usually worry too much about perfection. We make the plan and want to execute the plan. Ultimately it is about whether or not the goals are achieved. Learn the lessons when things go astray, but don’t forget the actual goals. It’s OK if things get a little ridiculous from time to time. Strike the pose and be the thing. Your passion may transcend whatever you think of as imperfections.

3. You can mix it up

One of the things that cosplayers like to do is witty mashups. They combine ideas for puns, like Ash Wednesday, above. They gender bend. They play with time. They play with genres. Anything that can be imagined is fair game. Not everyone will get it. Some will need it explained. Even then, some will go “Meh.” But some subset will fully appreciate the creativity and cleverness that went into realizing that vision. 

We are encouraged to be pure, to be one thing. There is a wonderful quote from science fiction writer, Robert Heinlein:

“A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.

“Specialization is for insects.”

— Robert Heinlein, Time Enough for Love^[

Marketing teaches that we need to be a box on the shelf with a single, recognizable thing. That may be true from a marketing perspective. However, humans are not made to be just one thing. Our curiosity, our multifaceted nature, our ability to try and do many different things make us naturally diverse. A laser focus might help you achieve a type of success, but what will you leave behind? 

Consider that if it feels right to you to combine some things that may be uncommon that you should listen to those feelings. Again, your unique set of flavors will create something that no one else can be. Just because something’s never been done doesn’t mean that it can’t be. Allow your inspirations to come from several different directions and combine them in a way that no one else has considered. Once people experience your version, it may be that everyone wants one! You may inspire others with something they believed was impossible. 

Manifesting our paths is an amazing act of creation. Some visions do require some precision and attention to detail. Some are more intuitive and flowing. In either case, it’s not about faking, it’s about realizing. Understand that you are always making it, no faking required. Let yourself be inspired by these cosplayers to bring your vision to life. If some days that works better in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle outfit, then “Cowabunga!”