It’s not about the things, but about the people, on Thanksgiving

I was running the other night. Well, it was more like a jog. OK, it was a light jog, but I digress.

As my body was screaming out in pain for me to stop running and make a bee line to In-N-Out for a Double-Double, I looked up and saw a city bus and one of the passengers caught my eye. He looked beyond exhausted with his head leaning up against the window and a somewhat helpless look in his eye that stopped me in my tracks.

Two seconds earlier, I was complaining in my head that my iPod battery was running down (seriously though, how much does that suck? Being forced to listen to your own labored breathing and random thoughts? But I digress, yet again) and that my orthodics in my $100 Asics felt off and that I wished that I had turned around a mile ago and that my knees feel 95 years old and the key to my car was digging into my side and…

It made me have a myriad of thoughts like these about my own life and how you can ALWAYS think of someone that is worse off than you.

Not that this person had an unfortunate life because he was on the bus; but it was very clear that he was not happy about his mode of transportation. This vision of him is now emblazed in my memory because it reminds me of just how easy it is to find things to be grateful for.

Look around, because they are everywhere.

For starters, I have a car. Every day, when I would like to go somewhere, it is available for me waiting to rip up the streets of CenPho (Central Phoenix) while blaring Black Keys on an awesome sound system. I should be thankful just for that. But then I get annoyed that my Bluetooth connection isn’t working or that I wish I had a sunroof or that I wish I would have gotten the leather option because, man, leather is a great smell.

My point is this: How easy is it to wish for more? Pretty easy, right? Well, even easier is to be grateful for what you have sitting right in front of you. I don’t have to take the bus, but maybe I should so that I know how grateful I should be for having a car.

One of my favorite writers, Karen Alpert in her blog, Baby Sideburns, has a bomb.com idea of “National Wear Someone Else’s Shoes for a Day.” My favorite excerpt:

Maybe you put a blindfold on and you wear it for an entire day and truly experience what it’s like to be blind. Wait, what’s that, you can’t because you have to get to work? Hmm, better figure out transportation because you can’t drive when you’re blind.

You could slip your arm into your shirt and live without an arm for a day and see what it’s like to lose a limb fighting for our country. And then multiply that times forever because when you lose a limb, it’s not temporary.

It seems like we could all do a better job of being more grateful and less wanting. Bluetooth? Leather seats? A house up north? You can’t take that stuff with you.

Look around, because what we have is right in front of us and they actually aren’t things at all. They are the people we love and they are all that matters in this world. So this holiday and every day, grab your friends and family and hug them tight.

And remember that leather seats can’t hug you back.