Thanksgiving: The Elephant at the Table

Ah, Thanksgiving —  the time of year when families gather around tables filled with food, gratitude, and… unresolved dynamics. For many, it’s not just about turkey and pie; it’s also about navigating a minefield of emotions, histories, and relationships. You know the scene: the hugs that feel a little too stiff, the conversations that tiptoe around old wounds, the clinking of silverware over tension so thick you could carve it with a carving knife.

But here’s the question: Why does Thanksgiving, a time meant for connection and gratitude feel like a battlefield?

The Masks at the Table

Thanksgiving isn’t just about food — it’s a stage where everyone brings their masks. The alpha uncle, the overbearing mother, the sibling with the grudge, the cousin who’s “perfect.” All the roles show up, layered with decades of grievances, misunderstandings, and unhealed wounds.

Underneath it all, what’s really happening? Separation. Everyone at that table believes they’re separate from everyone else. Separate pain. Separate problems. Separate lives. Each person plays their part, projecting their pain outward, and the room becomes a theater of egos.

But here’s the truth: none of it is real. It’s all an illusion, a tangled web of beliefs and perceptions that keep us stuck in the same cycles year after year.

The Problem with Problems

You ever notice how families keep having the same issues, year after year? The same arguments, the same resentments, the same avoidance tactics. Why? Because they don’t even know what the real problem is.

M. Scott Peck said it best: we’re adults in appearance, but many of us still think with the minds of children. Look at how families try to “solve” their problems:

• They avoid them.

• They project blame.

• They hold grudges.

But here’s the truth: if the problem isn’t solved, it wasn’t really solved in the first place. By definition, if you’ve solved a problem, it’s done. It doesn’t come back. If it resurfaces year after year, then what you “solved” wasn’t the real issue.

The underlying issue is always the same: the belief in separation.

The Heads on the Table

Now, imagine this metaphor: everyone at the Thanksgiving table takes their head off and places it on the table. The heads get shuffled, and each person picks up a random one to put back on their body. Suddenly, your uncle has your aunt’s head, and your sister has your grandpa’s head.

What happens? Suddenly, you’re forced to see things differently. The brother you resent becomes your reflection. The sister you think is “too much” carries your burdens. The lines between “you” and “them” start to blur.

That’s the truth underneath it all: we are one. The separations we see are illusions. The people we judge, the grievances we hold, the roles we assign— none of it is real. What’s real is the oneness, the divine connection we all share.

The Thanksgiving Battlefield

You don’t need to look to Gaza or Ukraine to find war. For many families, the real battles happen at the Thanksgiving table. But what’s being fought over? Ego. Specialness. The need to be right, to be seen, to be validated.

Every person at that table believes they are their story. They believe their pain is unique, their suffering unparalleled. And so they hold onto their wounds, year after year, because those wounds have become their identity.

But what if we could see through the illusion? What if Thanksgiving wasn’t about holding onto our stories but about letting them go?

Letting Go of the Masks

Here’s the radical idea: this Thanksgiving, let go of the masks. Drop the roles. See the truth. Everyone at that table is carrying the same pain, the same fear, the same longing to connect.

And the real problem? They’ve forgotten who they are. They’ve forgotten that they are divine, that they are loved, that they are one.

What would happen if you approached the table with this awareness?

• Instead of judging, you forgive.

• Instead of reacting, you observe.

• Instead of holding onto the past, you let it go.

What if you could see every argument, every tension, every awkward moment as an opportunity to heal?

Thanksgiving as a Classroom

Thanksgiving isn’t just a meal. It’s a classroom. Every interaction at that table is a lesson, an opportunity to remember the truth: you are not separate. You are not a victim. You are one.

The food, the laughter, the awkward silences — all of it is part of the lesson. It’s not about fixing anyone or solving anything. It’s about seeing through the illusion, seeing each person as a reflection of yourself, and choosing love instead of judgment.

The Invitation

This Thanksgiving, instead of focusing on the food, the drama, or the past, focus on the opportunity. Use the table as a space to practice forgiveness, presence, and connection. Remember that every person sitting there is just like you: longing to be seen, to be loved, to be whole.

And when the ego tempts you to judge, to argue, to hold onto old wounds, ask yourself:

• What am I holding onto, and why?

• What am I trying to prove?

• What would happen if I chose love instead?

Thanksgiving isn’t about separation. It’s about oneness. And when you see that, the table transforms from a battlefield into a sanctuary.

So, what’s your role at the table this year? Will you be the mask, or will you be the love that sets everyone free?

Happy Thanksgiving, from one to all, because in truth, there is only one.

#thinkgod
I am sorry.
Please forgive me.
Thank you.
I love you.