Under the Banyan Tree

Thank goodness Thanksgiving is over! There, I said it. Because I’m simply not a fan. I don’t like pecan pie or green bean casserole or yams simmering under melted marshmallows. And now that another Turkey day is in the books, I can focus on what I’m truly grateful for. It sounds strange, I know, like some sort of retroactive gratitude. But who doesn’t notice more clearly the abundance in their lives after a break from professional responsibilities?  Slowing down allows us to reconnect with the people and experiences we truly appreciate, the moments that have contributed to our positive outlook or our life view or our straight up happiness. So here’s my gratitude confession: I love my family, my friends, my students (though, let’s be real, some individuals have been challenging), and I love the water. I’m fascinated by the ocean, find energy and strength walking on the beach in the Bahamas mesmerized by the bluest water I’ve ever seen, and feel peace sitting near the window a...

SPOILER ALERT: This week’s post isn’t all fun and games. But it’s important. I was going to blog about social constructs this week because I’ve been thinking about the ways these constructs guide our behavior and even determine aspects of our identity. But then I thought -- nah, to honor next week's national impetus to be grateful (and to eat more than anyone thinks they can), I'll blog about pain. Which sounds odd, I know. But I can’t write about pain on the actual day of Thanksgiving, so here goes. Part of being human, I think, is coping with occurrences we aren’t truly grateful for. Or that we’d prefer to live without entirely. Like words that harm and actions that haunt; like diseases that threaten to destroy our bodies; like the deaths of people we love; like things that just plain suck. So why, to borrow a cliche that feels more like a valid question than an actual cliche, do bad things happen to good people? The short answer (from a laywoman who enjoys occa...