Thank You

"in the faces of the officials and the rich
and of all who will never change
we go on saying thank you thank you"
 - Thanks, by WS Merwin

Today, I was thanked for saying thank you.
"It means a lot," a friend told me. 

The thanks had been in a simple email; it probably took me five minutes to write. It's not something I always remember to do. I can definitely be bad about writing someone back after they've written me, or having things on my mental to-do list which just don't get checked off. I just know that when I receive a little note which says those simple words - thank you - it can mean so much. An acknowledgement, not just of someone as a person, but of their worth.

Thank you for your help.
Thank you for your time.
Thank you for your thoughtfulness.
Thank you for your insight.
Thank you for doing that. 
Thank you for being there.
Thank you. Just thank you.


I'm a believer in paying things forward. Give, while allowing yourself to be poured into as well, and keep on giving. The pouring into may be things as simple as going out to appreciate nature, or playing music on repeat which renews your soul, or having a conversation with a friend who will listen and understand over trying to fix things. The giving may be as easy as being the listening friend to someone else, or paying someone a meaningful compliment, or bringing them a meal or gift, or saying thank you.

My pastor showed a video once where a guy sits on his bed, sighs, and prays, "I'm really struggling. I don't know what to be thankful for." He goes to sleep. When he wakes up the next morning, he wiggles his toes under the sheets, and words appear saying, "I can move. I can walk." As the man gets up and goes about his day, more words highlight all the daily blessings of his life: Good food, A fulfilling job, A Home, A Car, Family, Friends, Interests, Clothes, Entertainment, Freedom, and so on. By the time the man once again sits down on his bed at the end of the day, the viewer feels sure that the man will smile, having been reminded - even blown away - of how thankful he should be for such a good life. Instead, the man sighs in just the same way, saying with the frustration of a broken record, "I don't know what to be thankful for."

There's a gorgeous poem by WS Merwin called "Thanks" which I have read dozens of times. Each time, it takes my breath away. Unlike the man in the video who doesn't know what to be thankful for, in this poem, thanks comes bursting out of people in ordinary, even terrible, situations.

"back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging 
after funerals we are saying thank you 
after the news of the dead 
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you"

The verses build with an urgency which makes me want to run outside and shout, Thank you, thank you ("dark though it is").

So, let us.
Let us say thank you, for all the everyday blessings in our lives, detecting them diligently and growing agog with the wonder of their rediscovery. Let us say thank you, purely, as we did when we were children and surely had a moment of awe for simply being alive. Let us pass forth thanks before complaint, making it a contagious, beloved habit.

Thank you for the reminder to say thank you. Thank for for grace when I am ungrateful, unobservant, and self-centered. Thank you for a lifetime of chances to say ... thank you.