Hugo Schwyzer

Starting this afternoon, I’ll be away for the Thanksgiving holiday. No posting until Monday, November 26.

I did want to give thanks this morning to all the readers of this blog. If my statistics can be trusted, I’ve got a fairly stable readership. I’ve been averaging just under 1000 unique hits a day, and from what I can tell, a little less than half that number (300-400) are regular visitors. That’s nothing compared to the bigger blogs, of course, but given the length of my posts, I’m very grateful.

I’ve been blogging since August 2003. It’s been a joy and a revelation, and has become so much a part of my life that I would sorely miss it were I forced to give it up. I have no intentions of quitting, even as I sometimes struggle to come up with topics to write about. I’m grateful for the outlet this forum has given me for my thoughts and ideas. My friends and family are also grateful, I think — the fact that I blog means that I release some of my pent-up energy that might otherwise be expended all over them. Even now, periodically, my wife will say to me firmly: “My love, why don’t you go blog about that now?” (Telling me to blog is her kind way of getting me to stop bouncing around the house like a whippet on crack.)

I’m grateful for my job. I love teaching. Even when I’m tired (yesterday, I taught four classes spaced over fourteen hours), I get excited about being in a classroom with students. I am thankful to have a job which brings me such fulfillment. Aristotle famously has a lot to say about work and play; after fifteen years of teaching, I am still often unable to distinguish whether or not what I do in the classroom and in my office hours feels more like work or more like play. I get paid reasonably well to do something I would probably do for free. That’s something for which to be very, very thankful.

I’m thankful to be forty. Though it’s a cliche, I too was among those who — when I was younger and far more destructive — couldn’t imagine living to forty. (Many of my loved ones worried I wouldn’t make it this far.) Here I am, happy and fit and content in my own skin. The lines on my face (of which there seem to be more just this week) are evidence of a full life characterized by excess in many things, but I won’t botox any of them away. I’m grateful for each and every one of ‘em.

I’m thankful, above all, for the gift God gave me many years ago, a gift I suppose I’ve had all my life: a restless hunger for more. If I reflect on who I am, at my core, deep inside, I suppose I’m one big bundle of desire. Early on in life, I came to understand that my wants were more intense than most other people’s, and that I would have a much harder time controlling my impulses than most. I shamed those wants, I medicated those wants, I indulged those wants. Eventually, I came to understand that in all of that longing for intimate connection, for a new experience, for “new skin” beneath my fingertips, I was hungry for God. I’m thankful that I was able to redirect that impulsiveness towards Him. I’m thankful for His continued intervention in my life, and for my partnership with Him.

Today, I find pleasure in purpose. I’m grateful for that. Many of my friends are hitting forty, wondering what to do with their lives still, wondering what it is that they are called to do. I don’t know why I’ve been blessed where they haven’t been. Despite my best efforts to fuck everything up, I’ve got a great job, an amazing marriage, a burgeoning career as a writer and public speaker. It’s much more than I deserve, unless you believe (as I sometimes do) that we deserve what we are willing to work for.

So I’m happy today. I’m grateful today. But I’m not content. And you know, I don’t want to be content. God’s got more for me to do, and I can feel Him calling me “further up, further in”. I don’t know what that “more” is just yet; perhaps it’s children, more writing, more volunteering. It might be finally training for and finishing a 100 mile race. I do know that I’m still restless, still a bundle of nerves in my early middle age, still certain that there is more to do. And I give thanks for that restlessness this day.

I’m grateful to my friends, grateful to my students, grateful to my colleagues. I give thanks for my family, both those who are living still and those who, like my beautiful father, are part of the great cloud of witnesses that watches over my life. I feel Dad with me everyday, and I’m so thankful for his continued comfort and reassurance.

In the midst of chaos, a happy Thanksgiving to all.