Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Two words merged together. The word “Thanks” a nod of appreciation. The word “Giving” an act of kindness. The two merged: The act of giving thanks.

As we go through this ritual we send notes to our clients, friends, and loved ones. We give thanks as a spiritual practice. We give thanks as a societal practice. And most often we give thanks for the things that we hold to be cherished and good..

So why would I entitle this blog “Amor Fati”? (Which I am sure you have googled by now!)

I like to say that I am as wise as the scars I have and the mistakes I have made. The scars of mental and physical trauma. The mistakes that have hurt others and myself.

In reality, my identity is the accumulation of all that has happened, what is happening now, and what will happen. Am I thankful for this…all of this?

The world is a messy place. It always has been. We are all broken in some way or another. Can we celebrate this? Can we love the life we have been given, the life we are living, and the life that remains?

I love this day. I love hearing from my family and friends the stories of their thankfulness. I love the history of the stories over the years told through tears and laughter.

I love the provision I have been blessed with.

But what I love most of all is the breath of life and the gift of seeing it in every living thing.

There is a still, small voice that grows stronger every year of my life. It started as a whisper. Now it appears as if I have a walking companion in the woods near my house. Or a coach in business. Or a muse.

I experience it as sight, hearing, and the fulness of heart. It is not only a whisper, but a song.

I would like to think that the world is moving closer to such a voice. Perhaps it started in your home, or a hospital bed, or a layoff. Perhaps it started with the gut-wrenching disappointment of a leader you were following, or the betrayal of a friend. Often the whisper appears in these kinds of moments.

But we are in this moment now, together. I am writing. You are reading. We have distance closing between us as I hear the voice gently reminding me that we are not alone. We share this path to value… and the dirt, stones, trees, and sky share in the underlining foundation of it all. Love of Life. All of it. Every bit of it.

Amor fati. Happy Thanksgiving.