Poem: November

and thoughts on not feeling grateful when you think you should

It’s Thanksgiving.

I feel pressure to write something about gratitude, to gush over everything, to thank and thank and thank but I’m not feeling it, you know? I’ve been in a bit of a creative dry spell recently, which also feels like a spiritual dry spell, and I’m trying not to freak out about it.

I even asked ChatGPT the other day, Is it normal to not feel things all the time?

And ChatGPT responded, validating as ever, and said, yes, it’s okay, you’ll be okay.

As someone whose husband is now completely unphased by her “daily cry,” feeling things deeply feels like a personality trait at this point. So when I don’t feel constantly connected or devastated or overwhelmed or elated… I, naturally, wonder if something is wrong with me.

November often holds this tension for me. It’s getting colder, and I don’t like that, but I should be grateful, because it’s November! Or election season is contentious, and I don’t like that, but differing opinions are essential for a strong and diverse society, so I should be grateful, because it’s November!

And I suppose there is some power to attempting gratitude in a world that can feel heavy, like I wrote about last Thanksgiving:

Gratitude Feels Different This Year

I know I just said all those things above about not feeling gratitude when I think I should, but now that I’m thinking about gratitude, I want to say thank you.

Thank you. I mean it! Thank you for being on this journey with me through writing my newsletter and discovering myself and deconstructing religion and disentangling Jesus. Thank you for your kind words, in person and online. Thank you for your friendship and your readership and being on this journey with me. I am so grateful, truly, for Substack, for the readers of this little newsletter, for your grace and curiosity and openness. And I’m thankful to my God, who has revealed Himself to me this year in nature, in loving eyes, in literature, in periods of distress, in periods of stillness, in periods of joy, in the waxing and waning of the moon.

You know, writing that out, I’m starting to feel something again, so maybe November’s call for gratitude is actually on to something. :)

My offering for you today, dear readers, is my monthly poem. Every month, I have written monthly poems trying to encapsulate the vibe of the month. Last year, in November, was my first ever monthly poem, so technically, we have completed the year!

This poem feels right on the nose for how I’ve been feeling this November, so I’m grateful for 2023 Kimber and her words when I don’t have many.

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November – suspended

Hung in the air between hot and cold
Warm and cool
Comfort and discomfort
The warm richness of October 
Melting down into the blues, greens, purples of December.

We knew she was coming – 
We know every year – 

The green leaves turn brown
The brown leaves fall, revealing
the scars and 
knots and 
imperfections
Hardened and vulnerable

An exposé.
 
But she doesn’t stop there – 
November, she starts to turn inwards
She begins to reminisce
To reflect
To thank
To give
Unearthing the discomforts veiled by the summer – 
Elections, misconstrued historical lessons,
Awkward conversations over turkey – 

She unearths and unveils, plays all of her cards,
Sits back, and
Smiles at the game of the year – 
At the wild suspension of it all. 

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Thanks for reading, and happy Thanksgiving :)