A few years ago, during Thanksgiving week, I had one of those moments where life taps you on the shoulder and says, “Hey… slow down.”
It was a Tuesday. The office was quiet. Half the team was already mentally checked out, and the rest of us were physically there but spiritually halfway into a plate of mashed potatoes. I remember sitting at my desk, looking at my calendar, and realizing something wild:
For the first time in months, there was actual breathing room.
No back-to-back meetings.
No frantic deadlines.
Just… quiet.
And in that little pocket of stillness, my brain did something it rarely does during the rest of the year: it thought clearly.
It was the first time I’d felt that in a while, and it hit me—Thanksgiving week is built for reflection. Not the “I’ll get to it later” kind. The real kind.
That week, I grabbed a notebook and wrote down ten things I was grateful for. By item three, I started noticing something:
I felt lighter.
Not because life suddenly got easier, but because gratitude finally had room to speak.
It didn’t erase challenges. It just stopped letting them hog the microphone.
I still showed up, still pushed, still handled business… just without the noise, stress, and the 47 notifications reminding me my phone is the true puppet master.
I also realized how quickly bitterness tries to sneak in.
Comparison.
Insecurity.
Fear.
All the good stuff that turns us into the worst version of ourselves if we’re not paying attention.
That week reminded me: you cannot be thankful and bitter at the same time. One kicks the other out. Gratitude keeps the heart clean. It makes room for joy again.
Thanksgiving week naturally slows life down.
I found myself doing things I normally rush through:
Slow mornings.
Listening instead of reacting.
Texting people just to say “I appreciate you.”
Choosing patience with my kids instead of pace.
After a few days, I could feel the rhythm changing. Gratitude wasn’t a holiday idea anymore. It was becoming a setting.
That week, I told a few people in my life how much they mattered to me. Nothing dramatic…just simple, real words.
You’d think I handed them the keys to their dream car. People remember how you make them feel, not how perfectly you craft a sentence. Thanksgiving week gives us the perfect runway to invest in the people who make life worth living.
Here’s the surprising part: The more grateful I felt, the more generous I became.
Not in big, flashy ways. Just simple stuff.
Showing up for someone who needed it.
Helping where I could.
Being available.
Generosity isn’t about the size of the gift. It’s the heart behind it.
Your Thanksgiving Week Challenge
If you do that, you’ll walk into December lighter, clearer, and more grounded than most people do all year.
Because the real advantage of Thanksgiving isn’t the turkey. It’s the perspective.
Happy Thanksgiving.