On Thanksgiving, we have a family tradition of sitting around the table, sharing stories of what we are grateful for. This year, that tradition got mixed up a little bit and we ended up on the back porch as the sun set, sharing stories. . . and passing a Tomahawk.
I have no idea where that came from.
Legend has it, Uncle Ryan made it when he was a little boy and it’s survived all these years, only to resurface this week for Thanksgiving. We put it to good use by deciding that whoever had ‘the floor’ would need to hold the tomahawk. As I’m sure you can imagine, the tomahawk was waved in laughter and clinched in tears, as new memories were made last night.
The passing of the tomahawk symbolized many things.
Hearts poured out in thankfulness. Courageous stories of life and miracles. Gut wrenching words of letting go, love and hope.
That tomahawk touched them all.
I hope we decide to carry on the tradition. But even if we don’t hold onto the physical tomahawk, our experience will remain. Our hearts will remain connected, encouraged, inspired and more deeply grateful than when we began.
That’s the whole point of Thanksgiving anyway.
As you enter into this long weekend, focus on the experiences you’re creating with the ones you love. Connect, really connect, with each other go deeper than the food and the shopping. Encourage with your words and your actions, you have no idea how much they might be needed. Inspire others with stories of hope.
And even while you’re shopping, cleaning or decorating today, keep cultivating gratitude.
It’s the path to joy.
(and consider picking up a Thanksgiving Tomahawk while you’re at it)
to more Love,