Thoughtsgiving

Nov. 26

Breathing in and out this morning, with an active mind that has some focus on things of interest.

Because so many of the words in the English language originally derived from Greek or Latin, especially the long ones, one occasionally forgets that it is a Germanic tongue; and that its core linguistic tradition is just as rich as the Latin one, although perhaps less well researched, since the Mediterranean cultures were writing things down and keeping records long before the Nordic ones. In a certain peculiar irony, the English language has been the vehicle through which Latin words are most widely spread through other cultures, since English has become something of a lingua franca throughout the business world, leaking its way into many other tongues—even back into German, where the scattering of English words into German conversation is so commonplace that at times one might begin to think the Germans were speaking a pidgin form of English, instead of the other way around.

The German word that comes to mind today is Danke, which means “thanks.” "Dankeschön” means, “thank you very much,” although it literally means "thanks nicely." This has an irony built into it, since the word "nice" is ambiguous at best and, when pronounced sarcastically, means its opposite, making it at least two — and probably many more — words. 

The German “schön,” which means nice or attractive in English, is in turn related to the German verb ”scheinen,” means to appear — a double edge sword here, since the word “dankeschön” thereby morphs into apparent, instead of actual, thanks. Like the use of the word thanks itself in English, it can imply a superficiality of thanks; thanks, but not real and sincere thanks. 

Outward thanks.

Yet the word Danke, which so clearly applies to outward situations and conditions here, also gives us the route of the German word Gedanken, which means thinking and thoughts. (The phonemes of the German "danke” and the English word "think" are directly related because of this.) And here it immediately begins to refer to our inner life. 

What interests me about this today is that it implies that our thought itself is intimately, not causally or casually, linked to giving thanks. The act of thinking itself is a form of giving thanks — it is saturated from its very root with the idea of gratitude. The old English “thancas” originally meant both thanks and thought.

This implies a consonance between thinking and gratitude. The two ideas, linked at their root by this common linguistic heritage, have become separated; but ancient peoples used to see them, in a certain way, as synonyms—implying that there was once an understanding that thinking and gratitude are at the very least directly congruent, if not in the end the same thing. 

Perhaps we can begin to see that the purpose of thought is from its inception to give thanks, and that the act of thought itself is a sacred act, an action that should be precisely attended to and consciously honored in the ordinary course of daily life. One ought to be paying attention to one’s thoughts at every moment. 

Gurdjieff often used to remind his pupils that the thoughts should be a policeman; and this has many intriguing inner meanings. Notable is, of course, the idea that in order to do this, thought must police itself first — it must have an awareness of itself which is both attentive and critical. 

I notice that in conversation, this habit is almost completely absent in most people. Things are often blurted out without any attention whatsoever, often using vague terms, employing words incorrectly, and allowing an emotional inflection to expressed things in an incorrect an in accurate way, so that people don't actually say what they mean or intend to say. And, in fact, it seems that people are too often speaking without any actual thought whatsoever. Betrayals too many to count lurk in this habit: betrayals of self, betrayals of others. 

When we forget to be thankful, attentive, and grateful for thinking, we employ it carelessly—we're clumsy with it, and then it gives bad results because others can often hear this and may well be offended by it. If you think it over, perhaps you'll see that this is the most common way in which speech causes things between people to go south.

Beginning to see thought and the words that accompany it as a sacred action is thus a quite important thing. It's literally built into our language.

The point of this little soliloquy is to call us to have a greater attention—not just to the body and our sensation, which is essential, of course, but through that process to also have a greater attention to our thought, and to be thankful for the fact that we can think at all, before we think anything else. 

Proper thought begins in and is rooted in gratitude and thankfulness. Its origins live deep in the heart of human experience, where compassion can, if it's attended to, feed everything that proceeds from it— both thought, and sensation, and feeling. Thought is an equal and vital partner in this compassionate action that arises from the root of being. 

with warm regards,

Lee

Lee van Laer is a Senior Editor at Parabola magazine.