A Spiritual Prelude to Thanksgiving: A Love Letter to the Universe
Dear Universe,
This year, I want to thank you differently. Not through a holiday, not through tradition, but through presence. I’ve been thinking about these two words — thanks and giving — and how somewhere along the way, they became tangled in modern social rituals that often forget their roots.
When I strip this compound word down to their essence, I feel their pulse again. Thanks — a quiet whisper of gratitude that softens the edges of my days. Giving — an offering, a surrender, a willingness to share what lives within me. Together, they form something sacred. Not a celebration bound by a calendar, but a rhythm that hums beneath the surface of living — the art of both receiving and releasing in equal measure.
And so, I offer this recipe — not for a meal, but for meaning.
Ingredients for Thanks & Giving
1 cup of stillness — to remind you that presence is nourishment
A few tablespoons of forgiveness — for yourself and others
A handful of compassion — gently folded into each interaction
A pinch of surrender — to soften what you cannot control
Lots of sprinkles of hope — for flavor and future sweetness
Garnish with graditude
And finally, a deep breath — to let it all settle and become part of you
Instructions:
Begin by clearing your mind like you would a table. Set it with intention — not perfection.
In your beautiful, open heart, feel each ingredient with awareness .
Fold in forgiveness, compassion and surrender, one thought at a time, being careful not to rush the process and until they become indistinguishable.
Add your stories — the ones that taught you strength, humility, and love. Stir gently until they soften.
Let the mixture rest. This is where the magic happens — the melding of thanks and giving.
Before serving, with a deep breath, sprinkle with hope and garnish with gratitude
Mix with intention. Serve with love. Share freely.
I am thankful for the love that surrounds me, for the arms that hold me when I forget how to hold myself. For the unseen forces that guide me, the lessons that arrive disguised as detours, and the soft spaces where I’m reminded that love never needs to be loud to be felt or heard.
I am learning that giving isn’t always about offering more — sometimes it’s allowing space for someone else’s truth to exist beside my own. It’s the patience to listen, the courage to forgive, the grace to let go.
So today, I don’t celebrate a holiday.
I honor a vibration.
I give thanks to the unseen connections — the ones that thread our spirits together in the quietest, most human ways.
May this love letter find its way into the cracks of your day —
a reminder that gratitude is a living practice,
and that the truest form of giving
is to keep your heart open,
even when the world feels closed.
So as the world begins to gather — in gratitude, in chaos, in love —
may you remember that thanks and giving aren’t just words we share once a year.
They’re the quiet exchanges happening every day —
between you and your breath, your body and your becoming,
your giving and your receiving.
May your hands stay busy with what matters.
May your heart stay open enough to let the good in.
May you find peace not in perfection, but in presence.
Here’s to the beauty of the unfinished, the imperfect, and the enough.
Marcie