The days grow dark here in the North as the year winds down. Friends slowly return from COP30 in Brazil, the frontline of the fight for our climate future, with far too little won. There’s a weight to the air. It’s an age of global polycrisis, an era of authoritarian upsurge, a time of anger, grief, and overwhelm, nesting dolls of troubled times, from the planetary to the personal. And in the US, it’s Thanksgiving, a time when we are meant to gather to show gratitude for the things we’ve been given.
It’s a complicated proposition, giving thanks; it has always looked very different depending on who and where you are in this country. Because what have we been given and by whom? What have we taken and from whom? What is being taken today and who are the takers?
And it grows more complicated each year, giving thanks, as so many of us whose lives are materially abundant increasingly see that abundance less as a blessing and more as our birthright and a legacy to maintain. When in reality, modern materialist lifestyles were always the brittle pretense of an era of extraction that is hollowing out the Earth and our space to be safe upon it – and is starting to crack.
And this year, with cracks appearing everywhere – in our climate, our politics, our communities, our bodies and minds, our very sense of reality – it is profoundly complicated, giving thanks. This era of capitalist extraction and detached materialism has belched up such historic, geopolitical hairballs as Donald Trump presiding over the world’s richest nation for a second time and promptly pulling us out of the Paris Climate Agreement; such inexcusable own goals as global carbon emissions hitting a new record high in 2025; and such multigenerational tragedies as the vital, life-supporting 1.5°C climate target being all but certified dead. (We can overshoot and return to 1.5°C but we’re making this task harder.)
This follows a decade of urgent talk about the all-important “2030 deadline” for deeply reducing emissions to achieve this target – “we have just 10 years to avoid catastrophic climate change”, wait, “just 5 years”, wait… This was a message that children around the world picked up and shouted, demanding to be heard. But this year, the adults have gone quiet. The deadline will be missed.
So, it’s a complicated thanks. If I consider what really matters to me, each of those things is under some kind of assault. And my thanks is suffused with grief and anger.
But gratitude is powerful. It’s both something we offer up and, when we mean it, it’s a gift we give ourselves that can help us to hold grief, move anger, and bring us into right relation with what is.
So here are things I’m thankful for.
I’m thankful for the food that will be on the table. I’m thankful for the hands that harvested it. I’m thankful for everyday people in cities across the nation, defending our immigrant friends and neighbors from this administration’s inhumanity.
Excerpted: ‘Giving Thanks on an Endangered Earth’. Courtesy: Commondreams.org
