Giving thanks?

This past week has not been one of peace.

Mumbai was terrorized. A man was killed so other men could buy, shop, consume. I have researched what I once thought was a way to express solidarity with the marginalized of the world, and found the system fraught with the same hegemonic tendencies it fights against. It has been a year since the death of an incredible human being that I miss.

I see life around me. People in cars and coffee shops. Institutions and ways of life continuing on. Winter coldness has set in, but holiday lights breathe warmth. A few days ago I caught a glimpse of weariness on the face of a fellow traveler, and felt the heaviness she carries. It has been a long time since I have seen the incredible, genuine smile of a stranger. That smile you know is real, and given to you as a fellow human being, and for no other reason. I long to hear laughter.

I know I can never be as grateful as my situation necessitates.
That I can sit at a table, staring at more food than I could ever possibly eat; that that food is more nutritious than I could ever wish for.
That I can dream a future for myself and find a way to do it.
That I travel. That I can dream of traveling, and know it will come true.
That I am educated and can prosper because of it, no matter how bad things get.
That I, at 22, own a car, have a roof over my head, own my clothing, drink what I like, eat what I like, do what I wish.
That, should I so desire, I could get a job that, even at minimum wage, pays me more in one hour than millions make in a day - or a week.
For my friends, who I know I should hold more dear.
For the opportunities I am given every day of my life that millions will never even imagine exist.
For the grand institutions that serve me, and for the discerning mind I am given to know the nature of those institutions.
For my independence and liberty, and for the astounding ability to pursue happiness.