I’ll be honest. I was going to sit down to hammer out a caffeinated and vitriolic column about the scandal embroiling Penn State University, and the shocking and unconscionable allegations of abuse against the school’s former defensive football coach, Jerry Sandusky. I wanted to channel all the disgust, all the rage I’ve felt since the story broke, into something therapeutic.
But the more I thought about it, the more hopeless I felt. What could I possibly add to the discussion that could make anything better? What difference would it make? If you’ve been paying attention to the story, you’ve already been to that dark place, and there’s nothing more that needs to be said.
Everybody knows there’s enough negativity out there in the world today; it seems wherever you turn, institutions are crumbling, and people are losing their minds more frequently than ever before. Wherever you stand politically, these are trying times, and if you ask around for opinions on the state of this country, there’s a serious shortage of hope for the future.
I was recently asked by a reader, why is there so much bad news in the paper? I was stumped for a response. When it doesn’t appear our leaders are working in our best interests, when the economy doesn’t appear to be getting any better, and when we are overcome by stressors, it can certainly seem that bad news is all there is anymore. The question arises: What kind of world are we leaving for our children, or their children?
As the leaves turn and fall, and the calendar pages draw attention to the year’s end, these are times we pause and reflect on what’s important. So I thought about how I could turn a negative into a positive, and the word I kept coming back to was one most of us probably learned in grade school.
Gratitude.
The word triggered an immediate thought. As some of you Santa Marians are no doubt familiar, there’s a bookseller in town known affectionately as Mrs. Butterworth (her first name is Sheila). She’s an elderly, bespectacled English woman with a warm, charming accent, who’s been a friend to our paper for quite awhile, even appearing in our pages from time to time. Some of you have undoubtedly had the good fortune to duck into her shop—The Bookworm—on occasion, perusing and purchasing one of the numerous used books she has populating the cozy store.
On her counter, Mrs. Butterworth keeps a tray of polished stones, in varied hues, shapes, and sizes. I have several at home; perhaps she’s even offered one to you and explained their purpose. She calls them “gratitude rocks,” and the idea is to keep one on your person, preferably in your pocket, at all times. When you’re busily rummaging for your keys or spare change, your fingers will alight on the stone, a reminder to stop what you’re doing and give thanks for something in your life, great or small. It’s a simple, yet powerful trigger.
Because of the nature of my work, I’m able to interact on a daily basis with fascinating and inspiring people like Mrs. Butterworth, and others just like you—yes you, holding this paper in your hands. Over the past few years, I’ve been privileged to have met and spoken with many wonderful people in our community who selflessly give of their time and energy in service of others. Your work is appreciated, and it is not in vain.
I’m constantly thankful for the opportunity to live in an area blessed with so much natural beauty, and I’m thankful there are those people out there, citizens and politicians alike, who have dedicated their lives to preserving and protecting our lands for the enjoyment of all.
I’m thankful to be gainfully employed in a line of work I enjoy, when so many others in the community and beyond are struggling with joblessness, homelessness, and abject poverty. I’m thankful for all that I normally take for granted, that I have adequate transportation, running water, and a place to lay my head. I’m thankful too that I live in a country where I have the freedom to express my thoughts and inform the public without fear of reprisal.
I’m thankful I’ve had the experience of learning how to live with less, and am likewise thankful to be relatively healthy, to have a child in good health, and to have access to quality medical care. I’m thankful for the availability of wholesome and natural foods, much of it grown right here in my own backyard.
I’m grateful to have supportive family and friends in my life that will forgive me of my trespasses, help me in times of need, and brighten and enrich my daily experience of this rock we call Earth. I’m thankful to live in a world where so much information is so readily available at the touch of a button; and equally thankful that it’s so easy to unplug from it all, if I choose.
Most of all, I’m thankful to be alive in such an interesting time to be, with all of its human drama, joys and pains, victories and losses. It may not be perfect, but it’s the only life we’ve got, and we are all just along for the ride.
Oftentimes, it’s easy to get wrapped up in our own fears and neuroses. Now, more than ever, it’s my hope we remember there are things to be grateful for, and perhaps if each of us takes the time to do so, as we head through the holiday season and into a critical year, a new day will arrive for us all.
But what do I know? I’m just a bum. And that’s my view from the bleachers.
The Bleacher Bum can be contacted at jthomas@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Nov 23-30, 2011.