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the everyman memoirs

The official blog of author Tali Nay.
NOV
28

Giving

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Last year's Thanksgiving post (Grateful) remains my most trafficked to date. Like, by far. As in thousands and thousands more hits than anything else I have ever written. It baffles me a little, because the post was about heartbreak. And are people really that interested in my romantic misfortune? Probably not. But most everyone can probably relate...love and loss inevitably go hand in hand.

When I thought about Thanksgiving this year, about gratitude in general, my surroundings made it uncomfortably easy. See, New York City is a place where you feel grateful at almost every turn, because there are so many here who do not have as much as you do. More than that, they do not have even enough to keep themselves fed, warm, and safe. And while it can be uncomfortable to have a smelly a disheveled pregnant woman step onto your subway car and ask if anyone can help her get food or warmer clothes, or a man with no legs scoot himself and an empty coffee can from car to car, I promise you'll feel much more uncomfortable if you don't give them anything.

You can say what you will about choices and circumstances, about how much someone "deserves" to be given to. You can talk yourself out of giving with any manner of assumption about how these individuals may squander the money, but that's not really within our control. What is--and I do believe it's one of the highest and most important responsibilities we have as humans on this planet--is to serve and care for others. That said, if I were to give to every person who needed it, I'd be on the streets myself, but I do hope this next year we can all become more aware of our abundance and more inspired to use it to help those who are less fortunate.

Happy Thanksgiving! I'm grateful for my readers...even if they are so fascinated by me getting dumped. (There's more where that came from in my next book...)

NOV
28

Grateful

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In thinking today about what I’m grateful for, my mind went back to the moment a few months ago when I snapped this picture. The man I loved had just decided to break up with me instead of propose, and I was completely undone. Questioning everything from my actions to my attributes, in that moment all I knew was that it hadn’t been enough. That I hadn’t been enough. Which is why seeing these words scrawled on the side of the Brooklyn Bridge as I walked across stopped me in my tracks.

I won’t say these months have been easy ones. As horribly not-put-together as this makes me sound, I still miss him. Us. But if I’m grateful for anything today, it is the resilience of the human spirit. I’m grateful for support, even if it comes from far away. Grateful for the chance to take new paths, even if they aren’t the ones I would have chosen. Grateful that the things we have will always trump those we do not. Grateful to feel so blessed, today and always.

NOV
17

Thankful

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My life flashed before my eyes yesterday in hot yoga. Which reminds me--a few words about hot yoga: So. Hot. Granted my barefoot, tank-top-clad self thinks it feels breathtakingly cozy upon first walking in. But within about two minutes I feel grossly overheated. And about halfway through the workout I swear my heart starts palpitating, my body preparing for an imminent end. Having made it out alive yesterday, I felt a renewed appreciation for life, for sweat, for what the body can do while working out in 100 degrees of hotness. Which, incidentally, I should turn into a scandalous trilogy.

In the spirit of gratitude for not keeling over in the middle of downward dog, or maybe it was all these month of November gratitude musings I've seen on facebook, I started thinking of things I was grateful for, and in a moment that had me convinced I was hallucinating, the first thing I thought of was country music. It's like that forest scene on The Proposal where Sandra is asked to chant from the heart, and Ryan Reynolds says, "Balls? That's what came to your heart?" Look, I don't make the rules. And while not a hard core fan of the stuff, what came to my mind was country music. In particular, the Mary Chapin Carpenter album I just found at a used book sale.

See, I was introduced to country music at age 9 by my neighbors who watched CMT. And while I have been a spotty follower of the genre in the majority of the years since, any country song circa about 1992 is near and dear to my heart. Pam Tillis, remember her? How about Suzy Bogguss? Lorrie Morgan? I thought Something in Red was about the most dramatic and mature song I had ever heard. And don't even get me started on Trisha Yearwood's Walkaway Joe. Whoa.

I still like country music, although don't consider it as clutch as it used to be. And I sure wish our little T. Swizzle would re-countrify herself. Still, it's the morning station I listen to every day while getting ready for work, and it's what I most often play on the radio. Maybe it all reminds me of my childhood, of sneaking next door, or hoping my favorite video would be the next one on. For that childhood, and those neighbors, I am grateful. On this day and always. To quote Mary Chapin Carpenter, I feel lucky.

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