complicity as capitalism feasts on our illusions

This is the first time in maybe three years that I don’t have plans to 'gather' with friends and family for this gluttonous holiday.

I have always been shocked to find many people believe my anti-Thanksgiving sentiments are radical. I have often found myself going along with the hype of Friendsgiving, 'it’s time to spend with family,' feasting, appeasing those who find comfort in the day.

Instead of being content with falling back into my flow of anti-Thanksgiving solitude, when no one shared invitations to gatherings this year, I felt triggered into action.

'Hey, are you in town this year for thankstaking? I’m trying to see who’s around for a friend giving.'

I so blindly fell into the trap of my desire for gluttony and camaraderie that I simply didn’t care to resist anymore.

Maybe I was tired, and spending time with close friends over meals felt soothing. My attempt to call it thankstaking to serve as a reminder that, 'I know what’s up, but still want to partake,' is cringe af lol.

With no gathering to attend and no feast to lull my senses, I am reminded of the years when I made my choice to struggle with solitude on a day I was raised to indulge in.

I’m reminded of the discomfort I would bring to my family gatherings when I still lived in Illinois.

I am reminded of the way I’d try to educate people instead of shaming them.

I’m reminded of the way I would shame myself for the youthful, ignorant years I spent enjoying the meals and shopping before I came into my own awakening.

...

Let my little sentiment serve as a reminder that for us born in these 'United States of America,' there is always going to be an opportunity for us to be pulled back into the illusion of comfort, of superiority, of safety, and of peace.

We were raised as little sleeper cells of capitalism, and once the right trigger word passes our ear canals, we will overconsume like we were trained to.

We will step over fallen bodies to give our money away in box stores; we will ignore starving bodies of those ill on the streets as we drive to the stores with the intention of purchasing ingredients for a feast; we will celebrate a holiday that is based on the genocide of the indigenous people of North America.

Almost like if Israel is to succeed in their plans to wipe Palestinians off of the map, and in a couple of hundred years, they have their own celebration dedicated to the genocide of the people whose graves are beneath their feet.

...

Anyways...

My friend is sick today, so I am going to make her some soup. I'm currently moving into a new house, so I am going to spend the day cleaning up the old one.

I will not shame myself and my fellow humans who simply forget sometimes how to resist. I will not shame us raised in the USA who sometimes don't realize how ingrained capitalism is. I won't shame those who wish to never look the beast in the eyes out of fear...

But with all the compassion I have, that does not mean there isn't also a sense of urgency and a knowing that there is much work to be done and undone if we really want to make change.

Sadly, many of us are not as radical as we want to believe we are. And until we truly step into the wild discomfort of resistance, we never will be...