Walking in Oaxaca

Walking in Oaxaca

Dia de Los Muertos Poster

He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Originally posted October 30, 2018

So today I decided to take a walk to find the location of the apartment I move to in eleven days.  It’s a nice spot over offices for a doctor and a lawyer, only a couple of blocks from the zocalo at the edge of the tourist district.  There’s a nice restaurant next store, a laundromat around the corner and a small market about a half a block away.  I’ve also found my barbershop for the time I’ll be in town.

barber, krampus, mexicoI then took a walk past where I’ve been so far.  I started by heading out past the cathedral and immediately ran into a hoard of skeletal ladies.

I quickly found myself in the store area of town, the streets lined with stores and the occasional restaurant, lots of shoe stores.  But on several blocks the street is also fully lined with vendor booths.  If you like shopping, Oaxaca is definitely your kind of town.  I even found a little plug converter I’d forgotten and had to borrow from my host.  At one point I stopped and wanted to buy a bottle of water but the woman just said no, she couldn’t make change.  I’m finding this to be an issue, not having sufficiently small enough money.  It seems that change is at a premium in Oaxaca.  Luckily a bank was kind enough to break my bigger bills into smaller bills.  So now my smallest bills are the equivalent of $5 US bills, this works some places but not at booths or small mini-markets.  So my new goal is to use bills to break them into smaller change whenever possible.  On the way I also found a little cutie selling Mescal.

day of the dead, skeleton, travelYou can see she’s obviously flirting, she’s staring right at me.

I kept walking and even found a market I was looking forward to visiting, the market on 20 de Noviembre that is filled with every kind of food you could possibly imagine being served.  There’s even a grilled meat passage, that smelled amazingly good as you walk through stall after stall of grilled meats on either side of you.

I came out of the market and turned back toward the zocalo, or so I thought and walked for a while until I realized it was time to check the GPS.  Yup, I was completely reversed and had been walking in the opposite direction of the zocalo. During my walk I discovered Halloween is also a thing here because there were a number of Halloween mask booths.

halloween, mask, travelSo I reversed and headed back that way and eventually once I got back to the zocalo decided to eat.  I stopped at a cafe on the zocalo and got some enchiladas verdes com pollo covered in lovely Oaxacan cheese, really tasty and a bit salty.  The meal was great, but it was on the zocalo so you pretty much have to say no thank you to a walking vendor every couple of minutes.  The zocalo is really gearing up for Dia de Los Muertos and the big altar is fully up, with another couple of altars under construction.

Another lovely day in Oaxaca, sixty degrees in the morning and eighty by siesta time around two o’clock in the afternoon.  One final note today on Oaxaca, prices are amazing.  My giant plate of enchiladas, with bread and a coke was $6, a two-liter bottle of water is a dollar.  My trip to the market in the neighborhood (avocados are 25 cents) for an avocado, 2 carrots, a cucumber, 3 heirloom tomatoes and 4 bananas cost me $2.  My laundry that I dropped off this afternoon, a weeks worth of clothes will be ready tomorrow afternoon, wash, dried and folded will cost me $1.15.  Prices are pretty nice.

I’m finally feeling a bit comfortable in Oaxaca and looking forward to a tour I’ve booked tomorrow night to visit three cemeteries that have been decorated for the Day of the Dead.  Hope you are having a happy day my friends. ~ Rev Kane

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Happiness is Poetry: Anne Sexton

Happiness is Poetry: Anne Sexton

I’ve unfortunately gotten away from poetry over the last year.  First, in terms of my writing, I have distanced myself significantly from my muse.  Additionally, my life has been really good, I typically write from angst, anger and pain and happily there has been very little of that in my life this past year.  It seems that whenever my writing output slows, my poetry reading and exploration slows.  So tonight, I start exploring again and my search tonight brought me to Anne Sexton.

From the first poem I read I absolutely fell in love with her work.  She called herself a confessional poet and that is such a clear description of the way her words feel, no edifice, no masks just who and what she was, even where it took her to an almost longing for death.  The third piece I’ve included here, she openly talks about her upcoming death at 40, she in fact committed suicide at 45.  Below is an amazing description of a truly amazing woman and writer, I wish I’d met her.

“A college dropout turned housewife, fashion model, and jazz singer, Anne Gray Harvey Sexton is an unusual source of self-revelatory verse that prefaced an era of modernist confessional.

An ambivalent feminist, she spoke for the turmoil in women who despised the housewife’s boring fate, yet she suffered guilt over ventures into angry complaint and personal freedom.

A relentlessly honest observer capable of springing from disillusion to flashes of perception, she celebrated physical details of womanhood … Long parted from religion, she retained the fault-consciousness and self-loathing of Roman Catholicism.”

A Curse Against Elegies

Oh, love, why do we argue like this?
I am tired of all your pious talk.
Also, I am tired of all the dead.
They refuse to listen,
so leave them alone.
Take your foot out of the graveyard,
they are busy being dead.

Everyone was always to blame:
the last empty fifth of booze,
the rusty nails and chicken feathers
that stuck in the mud on the back doorstep,
the worms that lived under the cat’s ear
and the thin-lipped preacher
who refused to call
except once on a flea-ridden day
when he came scuffing in through the yard
looking for a scapegoat.
I hid in the kitchen under the ragbag.

I refuse to remember the dead.
And the dead are bored with the whole thing.
But you — you go ahead,
go on, go on back down
into the graveyard,
lie down where you think their faces are;
talk back to your old bad dreams.

_______________________

 

Again and Again and Again

You said the anger would come back
just as the love did.

I have a black look I do not
like. It is a mask I try on.
I migrate toward it and its frog
sits on my lips and defecates.
It is old. It is also a pauper.
I have tried to keep it on a diet.
I give it no unction.

There is a good look that I wear
like a blood clot. I have
sewn it over my left breast.
I have made a vocation of it.
Lust has taken plant in it
and I have placed you and your
child at its milk tip.

Oh the blackness is murderous
and the milk tip is brimming
and each machine is working
and I will kiss you when
I cut up one dozen new men
and you will die somewhat,
again and again.

__________________________

 

Menstruation at Forty

I was thinking of a son.
The womb is not a clock
nor a bell tolling,
but in the eleventh month of its life
I feel the November
of the body as well as of the calendar.
In two days it will be my birthday
and as always the earth is done with its harvest.
This time I hunt for death,
the night I lean toward,
the night I want.
Well then–
It was in the womb all along.

I was thinking of a son …
You! The never acquired,
the never seeded or unfastened,
you of the genitals I feared,
the stalk and the puppy’s breath.
Will I give you my eyes or his?
Will you be the David or the Susan?
(Those two names I picked and listened for.)
Can you be the man your fathers are–
the leg muscles from Michelangelo,
hands from Yugoslavia
somewhere the peasant, Slavic and determined,
somewhere the survivor bulging with life–
and could it still be possible,
all this with Susan’s eyes?

All this without you–
two days gone in blood.
I myself will die without baptism,
a third daughter they didn’t bother.
My death will come on my name day.
What’s wrong with the name day?
It’s only an angel of the sun.
Woman,
weaving a web over your own,
a thin and tangled poison.
Scorpio,
bad spider–
die!

My death from the wrists,
two name tags,
blood worn like a corsage
to bloom
one on the left and one on the right —
It’s a warm room,
the place of the blood.
Leave the door open on its hinges!

Two days for your death
and two days until mine.

Love! That red disease–
year after year, David, you would make me wild!
David! Susan! David! David!
full and disheveled, hissing into the night,
never growing old,
waiting always for you on the porch …
year after year,
my carrot, my cabbage,
I would have possessed you before all women,
calling your name,
calling you mine.

_____________________________

Cinderella

You always read about it:
the plumber with twelve children
who wins the Irish Sweepstakes.
From toilets to riches.
That story.

Or the nursemaid,
some luscious sweet from Denmark
who captures the oldest son’s heart.
From diapers to Dior.
That story.

Or a milkman who serves the wealthy,
eggs, cream, butter, yogurt, milk,
the white truck like an ambulance
who goes into real estate
and makes a pile.
From homogenized to martinis at lunch.

Or the charwoman
who is on the bus when it cracks up
and collects enough from the insurance.
From mops to Bonwit Teller.
That story.

Once
the wife of a rich man was on her deathbed
and she said to her daughter Cinderella:
Be devout. Be good. Then I will smile
down from heaven in the seam of a cloud.
The man took another wife who had
two daughters, pretty enough
but with hearts like blackjacks.
Cinderella was their maid.
She slept on the sooty hearth each night
and walked around looking like Al Jolson.
Her father brought presents home from town,
jewels and gowns for the other women
but the twig of a tree for Cinderella.
She planted that twig on her mother’s grave
and it grew to a tree where a white dove sat.
Whenever she wished for anything the dove
would drop it like an egg upon the ground.
The bird is important, my dears, so heed him.

Next came the ball, as you all know.
It was a marriage market.
The prince was looking for a wife.
All but Cinderella were preparing
and gussying up for the big event.
Cinderella begged to go too.
Her stepmother threw a dish of lentils
into the cinders and said: Pick them
up in an hour and you shall go.
The white dove brought all his friends;
all the warm wings of the fatherland came,
and picked up the lentils in a jiffy.
No, Cinderella, said the stepmother,
you have no clothes and cannot dance.
That’s the way with stepmothers.

Cinderella went to the tree at the grave
and cried forth like a gospel singer:
Mama! Mama! My turtledove,
send me to the prince’s ball!
The bird dropped down a golden dress
and delicate little gold slippers.
Rather a large package for a simple bird.
So she went. Which is no surprise.
Her stepmother and sisters didn’t
recognize her without her cinder face
and the prince took her hand on the spot
and danced with no other the whole day.

As nightfall came she thought she’d better
get home. The prince walked her home
and she disappeared into the pigeon house
and although the prince took an axe and broke
it open she was gone. Back to her cinders.
These events repeated themselves for three days.
However on the third day the prince
covered the palace steps with cobbler’s wax
and Cinderella’s gold shoe stuck upon it.
Now he would find whom the shoe fit
and find his strange dancing girl for keeps.
He went to their house and the two sisters
were delighted because they had lovely feet.
The eldest went into a room to try the slipper on
but her big toe got in the way so she simply
sliced it off and put on the slipper.
The prince rode away with her until the white dove
told him to look at the blood pouring forth.
That is the way with amputations.
The don’t just heal up like a wish.
The other sister cut off her heel
but the blood told as blood will.
The prince was getting tired.
He began to feel like a shoe salesman.
But he gave it one last try.
This time Cinderella fit into the shoe
like a love letter into its envelope.

At the wedding ceremony
the two sisters came to curry favor
and the white dove pecked their eyes out.
Two hollow spots were left
like soup spoons.

Cinderella and the prince
lived, they say, happily ever after,
like two dolls in a museum case
never bothered by diapers or dust,
never arguing over the timing of an egg,
never telling the same story twice,
never getting a middle-aged spread,
their darling smiles pasted on for eternity.
Regular Bobbsey Twins.
That story.

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The Great Glen Way

The Great Glen Way

happiness, hikingNature is not a place to visit, it is home. ~ Gary Snyder

All of my Great Glen Way posts in one spot,I hope you enjoy and have a happy day my friends. ~ Rev Kane

Day 1 – Fort William to Garlochy

Day 2 – Garlochy to Laggan

Day 3 – Laggan to Invermorsten

Day 4 – Invermorsten to Drumnodrochit

Day 5 – Drumnodrochit to Inverness

Day 5 Alternate –  Bizarro World

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Happiness Moments: The National Anthem

Happiness Moments: The National Anthem

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride! ~ Hunter S. Thompson

So a new little writing experiment for the blog. I’ve been wanting to find a way to do some free writing as practice. And I’ve been wanting to capture the moments in my life that have brought me true happiness. I need that little pick me up right now with everything going on in the world and no real chance to travel. So, some writing about happy moments in my life, hope they bring you a little happiness too.

So to say that my life was out of control in the 80’s would be severely understating the obvious.  I was dealing with multiple substance abuse issues, depression and a lot of anger.  While attending my first college I had joined a fraternity which facilitated many of the bad habits and the madness I often found myself involved in. I’ve always found it ridiculous the way most anti-drug and alcohol programs work, particularly the lying.  You see these programs come at illegal substance use by telling you how horrible it all is.  It starts all of the way back in the 30’s, 40’s and 50’s with silly movies like Reefer Madness.  It was this idea that one taste of an illicit drug and your life was over, you’d go mad.  I can’t remember all of the times I’ve been told that doing LSD would lead you to jump out of a window because you would think you can fly.

Now in my case, my substance abuse led to some bad situations and absolutely some bad results.  But let’s not be liars about this, in the midst of it all I was having a hell of a lotta fun.  Sure there was some bad nights and screwed up things that happened and eventually it was the smartest thing I ever did getting clean.  But there were some absolutely great memories as well.

Our fraternity system had a softball league that played it’s games just outside the fraternity house block on campus.  Our fraternity was particularly close with the fraternity across the street from us.  This was also 1982, so alcohol was still allowed on campus because the drinking in age in NY was still 18 about to go to 19 in the new year.  Needless to say whenever you were scheduled for an 8AM  game, particularly with your neighboring house,  it meant only one thing.  Very little sleep and mimosas and eggs for breakfast.  As you can imagine, these games were rowdy, semi-organized affairs.  On this particular morning though, there was an extra level of planning and madness.  The umps called the start of the game but instead of taking the field both teams lined up down each base line, took off our hats and raised a glass.  The umps looked confused until someone mentioned we couldn’t start the game until we played the national anthem.

A particular crazy member of our neighboring fraternity soon lifted his dorm room window and placed an amp on the sill.  Then, at maximum volume, burst into a version of the Star Spangled Banner alla Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock.  It was a really wonderful moment and a memory that came flooding back to me yesterday as the national anthem was played before an NFL game.  Have a happy day my friends. ~ Rev Kane

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A Nice Quiet Thanksgiving Weekend

A Nice Quiet Thanksgiving Weekend

If you’re not able to sit down and do nothing for 1 hour, you’re addicted to stimulation, and you will never attain true happiness. ~ Robert Celner

I had some grand plans for the Thanksgiving Weekend, lots of little things I was going to take care of and check off of my to do list.  Thanksgiving went perfectly according to plan, up early for a hike, made a wonderful dinner, ate and relaxed.   However what I hadn’t really thought about, was that this four day period was my first real downtime since the whole COVID situation started in March.  And apparently, finally giving myself permission to shutdown allowed me to do that, effectively and completely.

So I really did very little this weekend.  I ate some really good food, did some cooking and quite frankly ignored my dietary restrictions.   Which of course meant I ate some cookies and pie, as well as finishing off all of the Thanksgiving day leftovers and had a great breakfast this morning that included a whole pile of hash browns.  I know, not very exciting but that quickly became the point of this weekend, to not be very exciting.

I think the lesson for me this weekend, was that sometimes you really just need to stop.  And that’s what I did this weekend, I just stopped.  It was nice to kind of just give up and give in and really rest this weekend.  It was nice, and hopefully it translates  into feeling like I’m fully back up to speed on Monday.  Although I also ignored my email for the last four days so who knows what’s waiting for me when I open the laptop Monday morning.  But that’s tomorrow and tonight is one last night of good food and football and doing absolutely nothing.  Have a happy day my friends. ~ Rev Kane

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Happiness is Swimming with Whale Sharks

Happiness is Swimming with Whale Sharks

Whale-Shark-Homepage
The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure.          ~ Christopher McCandless

Update: Trixie the Whale Shark pictured above has unfortunately died, very sad, she was a gentle and beautiful creature.

Happiness is Swimming with Whale Sharks

So on passing through Atlanta a couple of months ago I was considering going to the Georgia Aquarium.  While looking at the website for information I saw a tag line for swimming with the whale sharks at the aquarium.  I was very excited, first, I didn’t know any aquarium had whale sharks in captivity and not only did they, but I could swim with them!  I was immediately in and went to the website to schedule only to find out of course, there was a bit of waiting period.  So knowing I would be back through Atlanta in late October I booked a date for my swim with the whale sharks.  Swimming with them has been on my bucket list for a long time, they are the world’s largest fish after all and I still hope to swim with them in the wild, but I couldn’t pass on this opportunity.

The experience was amazing and started of course with a visit to the aquarium and here are a couple of images of the exhibit and the various type of animals in the tank with the whale sharks, and yes those are other sharks as well.  My favorite other critter was the huge manta ray, it was 12 feet across and 18 feet from head to the tip of the tale.  At one point during the swim it came up from behind me and glided past about a foot below me, it was absolutely amazing.

manta

w9 w7 shark shark 2 grouperWe were escorted behind the scenes to check out the tank and get oriented and suited up for the swim.  Here are a couple of shots of the tank and one of a sea turtle that is about to be added to the exhibit.

top view turtleWe then took to the water, the swim is done in a full wet suit with the option of using a breather or a snorkel.  You’re fully buoyant so and swimming quite slowly so no need for weight belts or fins.  Basically you slowly swim around the tank as the fish swim by.  The animals have absolutely no fear of you and I was hoping that one of the other sharks would come close but the closest I got was about 15 feet from a black tip reef shark.  You are not allowed to touch the animals, they are allowed to touch you.  One of the most amazing parts of the swim for me was having an 18 foot whale shark swim right between me and my swim buddy and somehow not bump either of us, they are amazingly graceful creatures.

w8My best friend was along to take photos through the glass so I owe her the photo credit and my thanks for the following shots.  The experience lasted 30 -40 minutes and was amazing, it was so serene and peaceful floating along in the tank with these magnificent creatures all around.  One tip if you are contemplating this for yourself, even if you’re a diver, do the swim.  The divers camp out on the bottom and if you notice in my pics of the tank, the whale sharks typically swim pretty high in the water column so you get much closer on the swim typically, although you may get closer to the other sharks on the dive.  Enjoy the photos and have a happy day my friends ~ Rev Kane

w6 w5 w4 w3 w1

Some other pieces you might enjoy!

Appalachian Trail Happiness, The Book

My Polar Bear Adventure

Appalachian Trail Happiness: Precious Moments

Himalayan Travelogue

Happiness is Cycling in Ireland

Happiness is Photography: Burning Man

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Happiness is Poetry: Peter McWilliams

Happiness is Poetry: Peter McWilliams

Desire happiness, aspire to gratitude, long for health, crave compassion, seek satisfaction, lust after God, however & whatever you perceive God to be, want to love yourself, others & everything around you more and more each day. ~ Peter McWilliams

happiness love poetry

Today friends we continue with my favorite poets, Peter McWilliams was the master of short profound and powerful works on love, no one else could spin my head and my heart with so few words.  So we provide a few examples for you today to help you have a happier day my friends ~ Rev Kane

So there’s no confusion I’ll line between the poems, most of his works were untitled:

Am I mad?
Am I remarkably lonely
or remarkably perceptive?
How can I be feeling this so soon?
How have I lasted without it so long?

***********

Cold outside,
warm inside,
and warmer still
inside our stillness.

Come morning
you & I discovered we
and the snow
had fallen
in love.

Outside
we will build a snowman
and a relationship
and love it
until it melts.

************

When we are
together,
we are
one.

When we are
apart,
each is
whole.

Let this be our dream.
Let this be our goal.

Other Posts You Might Enjoy!

Happiness is Poetry: Ashe Vernon

Happiness is Poetry: Warsan Shire

Happiness is Poetry: Doug Draime

Happiness is Poetry: Sapphire

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My Annual Thanksgiving Day Hike – 2020

My Annual Thanksgiving Day Hike – 2020

goldengate bridge, thanksgivingThere are some good things to be said about walking. Not many, but some. Walking takes longer, for example, than any other known form of locomotion except crawling. Thus it stretches time and prolongs life. Life is already too short to waste on speed. I have a friend who’s always in a hurry; he never gets anywhere. Walking makes the world much bigger and thus more interesting. You have time to observe the details. The utopian technologists foresee a future for us in which distance is annihilated. … To be everywhere at once is to be nowhere forever, if you ask me. ~ Edward Abbey

Problem with selfie’s as a photographer, I focus on the composition and forget to smile, but be assured it was a happy hike.

Thanksgiving Day has lots of traditions for me.  I almost always cook and excessively so, mostly so I can eat obsessively for several days.  I take a moment to give thanks, I watch a lot of football.  I do an annual full volume playing of Arlo Guthrie’s Alice’s Restaurant.  And without a doubt my most consistent tradition is my Thanksgiving Day hike.  Most years it’s a dawn hike, so that I can get out walk, be outside and then be home early enough to start cooking and eat at a reasonable time.

So this year I decided to do a short turnaround hike starting at Baker Beach and walking the coastal trail toward the Golden Gate Bridge.  it’s a nice little hike, a few hills, a long set or three of stairs but a beautiful walk along the ocean heading toward the bridge and the San Francisco Bay.  It was a crisp morning but sunny and clear and the stairs gave my quads a nice little workout, so that’s the justification why I’ll need to eat four meals today.

This year, I’m certainly thankful in a time of uncertainty and pain for so many that I have a job, and the funds to make a nice dinner.  I hope you are able to do the same, Happy Thanksgiving my friends. ~ Rev Kane

My 2019 Thanksgiving Hike

My 2017 Thanksgiving Hike

My 2016 Thanksgiving Hike

My 2013 Thanksgiving Hike

 

 

 

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Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving

turkey, thanksgivingNo one who achieves success does so without acknowledging the help of others. The wise and confident acknowledge this help with gratitude. ~ Alfred North Whitehead

Happy Thanksgiving! 

Most of us were taught a lovely fairy-tale about the first Thanksgiving, about kind Native Americans who help the Pilgrims and together they feasted together to give thanks.  It’s a great story and works well in a Charlie Brown special and some form of joint harvest feast certainly happened in 1621.  Lately we’ve been given another angle on Thanksgiving which is to focus on the colonial activities of early European settles and to focus on the genocide of Native Americans.  While without a doubt, the colonization of America and the treatment and attempted genocide of Native Americans is a sad and horrible story, it really has nothing to do with Thanksgiving except as a counter narrative the first fairy-tale I mentioned.

The fact is, that although some sorts of Thanksgiving celebrations happened in places all over America, it wasn’t until 1863 that Abraham Lincoln created a national Thanksgiving Holiday.  It’s kind of incredible how many amazing things in American History are tied to President Lincoln.  Lincoln however was only achieving the dream that Sarah Josepha Hale had and had pursued for over 30 years.  Mrs. Hale, famously is the author of Mary had a little lamb.  Lincoln’s agreement, at the height of the Civil War, was certainly a bit political and the holiday got even more political in 1939 when President Roosevelt moved the holiday to it’s current date to help spur retail sales in an economy that had been ravaged by the Great Depression.  The Thanksgiving page for History.com lays out the whole tale in detail.

So there were certainly religious overtones to early Thanksgiving celebrations, there certainly was some sort of initial feast with Native Americans.  Presidents from Washington all the way up to Lincoln politicized the holiday to give thanks and gratitude, even the idea for healing after the Revolutionary and during the Civil War.  But none of that matters because that is no longer what Thanksgiving represents for people today.

I love Thanksgiving very much for what it means to us today.  It’s quite simply a holiday for gathering with family and friends, eating great food and giving thanks.  To me, there could be no more perfect holiday.  Sure, we all have slightly different traditions around the holiday but the core remains constant.  That’s one of the reasons for many people, given the current COVID pandemic, that this year’s Thanksgiving will be so tough.  It’s also the power of this holiday that I believe will drive many people to be less than safe this holiday in order to be with family and friends.

So ignore all of the political rhetoric, the drama, be safe and try and forget as best you can about the pandemic for a day.  Engage in your traditions the best way you can, cook, eat, celebrate and give thanks and have a Happy Thanksgiving Day my friends. ~ Rev Kane

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Happiness is Thanksgiving, Kindness & Gratitude

Happiness is Thanksgiving, Kindness & Gratitude

aGratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings.                                  ~ William Arthur Ward

The holidays are a very stressful time for everyone and an exceptionally hard time for some.  So, until the New Year I’ll be posting a Holiday Happiness post each day to try help folks out who are struggling.  As always you can reach out to me at Happinesskane@aol.com for a kind word or someone to listen. ~ Rev Kane

 

I LOVE THANKSGIVING !!!!!!!!

I really do, I love the holiday, I love this time of year, the weather, football season and eating, man do I love cooking and eating.  So, when you combine all of these elements together, all on ONE day, well, that makes me a very happy man. This is an especially happy year as I was in Canada for their Thanksgiving so I get TWO this year!

As I sat down to write my annual homage to my favorite holiday I thought I should see what I’ve written before and holy cow, I wrote a lot.  So for this year’s Thanksgiving post I’ve decided to repost some of the old ones and include a series of links on pieces I wrote about kindness and gratitude because that’s really what this is all about.  As much as the food and the football and the fall weather are spectacular, in the end it is about being thankful for what we have and finding ways to be kind to others.  Truly, if we could just concentrate on those two things in life this would be a better world.

So, enjoy some Thanksgving Day reading, relax and a have a very happy day my friends     ~ Rev Kane

a

Why Thanksgiving is My Favorite Holiday

Happiness and a Thanksgiving Day Hike

Happiness is Thanksgiving Day Dinner – This one has cooking tips and info.

Thanksgiving Stories – some funny stories about other people’s Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving – Some words from the Dalai Lama

1

Happiness & Gratitude for the small things

Friends, Joy, Gratitude & Transition

Quotes about Gratitude, Happiness & Kindness

Happiness & the Benefits of Gratitude

Videos: Inspiration, Kindness & Gratitude

 

21

Angels Among Us, A True Story of Kindness & Giving

Happiness Resources: Positivity, Kindness & Gratitude

Random Acts of Kindness & Happiness

The Dalai Lama on the Kindness of Others

Random Happiness: Stories of Kindness

 

 

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