One thing I love about somatic work is how the body teaches us to hold complexity.

Many of us are familiar with our bodily aches and pains. With practice we can become just as familiar with the places within us that are settled and at ease. By learning to simultaneously hold both of these truths our lives are made richer.

Thanksgiving is an opportunity to be in the practice of holding complexity.

If you're getting this newsletter, I suspect you're well aware of this holiday's genocidal roots. You know that the history we've been taught and its corresponding kumbaya images are based on white-washed propaganda and myth. You know that for many indigenous communities, Thanksgiving is a day of mourning.

Still, at the same time, there's some excitement about the prospect of sharing a meal with those you care about. Being with others not on Zoom but body-to-body, while potentially awkward, also feels enlivening. Amid the fray of daily life, it's nice to have this time to just cook and chill and eat.

What we tend to do when things are complicated is narrow our view.

In the body, we focus just on the loudest truth, what hurts. The ache in our shoulders, the pressure across our chest, the pinch in our lower back are problems to be solved. And, if a solution is not readily clear, we abort feeling all together.

With a holiday that's rooted in such painful history, we may similarly focus on all that is wrong. We feel judgement of those who celebrate, or guilt about our own desire to participate. We may take on an outsized burden to make things right and overextend in activism leaving us burned out.

When we bring a somatic lens to our collective relationship with Thanksgiving we can also see why for some the answer is to ignore and push away the truth of the historical violence of the holiday. Unable to solve or "fix" what has happened, we disconnect from what pains us and live on the shallow surface.

Thanksgiving is an invitation to align our values with the wisdom of our body.

Our indigenous ancestors gathered to celebrate and share the harvest going back, back, back. There's something intelligent and essential about coming together in this way. Breaking bread in celebration of the season is a hallmark of our shared humanity.

In the body, we learn how the parts of us that are in pain can be held by the parts of us the feel available and strong. In fact, it is from connecting to what is working that we have the energy and resourcing we need to engage in deeper healing work in a sustainable way.

I believe the same is true for our collective relationship with this holiday. Sharing a meal together and enjoying each other's company is fuel for the reparations work that is still needed. By holding both, we are brought to a richer human existence and a greater shared truth.

See below for tips on things you can do personally and at your communal table to support the collective.

With much care,
Kelsey