Most of us grew up with the idea that gratitude is something we “feel” or “should feel,” especially during the holidays. But for the Haudenosaunee—the people of the Longhouse, one of the oldest continuous democracies in the world—gratitude was never a seasonal activity or a moment of polite positivity.
It was a central part of the structure of the universe.
For over a thousand years, Haudenosaunee communities have opened gatherings, councils, ceremonies, and everyday life with the Thanksgiving Address—Ohén:ton Karihwatéhkwen, or “The Words That Come Before All Else.” This address isn’t a prayer in the Western sense; it’s an acknowledgement of the importance and connection of all things. A spoken reminder of how life holds everything together: the waters, the winds, the plants, the animals, the people, the ancestors, the unseen forces that bless and challenge us in equal measure.
The Address teaches that to honor life fully, you must acknowledge all of it—its nourishment, its difficulty, its cycles of birth and death, planting and fallowness, gathering and letting go. Gratitude and grief are not enemies. They are siblings.
Stepping Into Their Worldview: A Tradition of Balance
Imagine yourself standing in a Longhouse, midwinter. Snow presses against the wooden walls. Families gather around the central fire as the speaker rises to begin the Words. The room grows quiet. The smoke rises. The address unfolds like a story of the world, remembering each and every element and being:
We give thanks for the waters.
We give thanks for the plants.
We give thanks for the winds.
We give thanks for the ones who came before.
We give thanks for all that sustains life—including that which humbles us.
The beauty of this tradition lies in its honesty. By naming each being and each force, the community acknowledges not only abundance but also the cycles that require release: the harvest that demands a winter, the growth that comes after clearing, the life that exists because another life ended. Their ceremonies honored every aspect of life and the oneness of all things.
This understanding threads through Haudenosaunee stories and governance as well. The Great Law of Peace, which has guided the Confederacy for centuries, teaches that decisions must be made with a “Good Mind”—a mind that sees clearly, honors the past, and acknowledges the cost of imbalance. Gratitude brings clarity; grief brings truth. Together they create wisdom.
Why This Ancient Practice Is So Powerful (Neuroscience Agrees)
Modern neuroscience is finally catching up to what the Haudenosaunee have known for generations: gratitude and grief work together to regulate the human nervous system.
When we name the things for which we are grateful and express appreciation for what sustains us, the parasympathetic nervous system activates. Our heart rate slows. Muscles unclench. The body becomes a place where deeper emotions can move safely. This softening creates the conditions not only for joy and appreciation but also for grief—old grief, quiet grief, unspoken grief. When we connect to the most tender parts of ourselves grief can surface and be metabolized rather than stored.
Research on emotional integration shows that when gratitude is paired with honest acknowledgment of sorrow, people experience:
- increased resilience
- lower physiological stress
- improved emotional clarity
- a stronger sense of connection to others
- decreased rumination
Which is, essentially, what the Thanksgiving Address has offered for a millennium: a structured return to balance, clarity, and connection.
The Haudenosaunee did not need MRI machines to understand this. They watched the way people breathed differently after the Words. They understood that communities became calmer, steadier, more united. They recognized that naming the world and our place within it reorganizes the inner world, too.
What We Can Learn From Haudenosaunee Wisdom
We don’t need to borrow or replicate sacred Indigenous rituals to receive their teachings. In other words, we can honor and gratefully internalize their wisdom without appropriation. We can let the Haudenosaunee worldview remind us to slow down, to see more clearly, to honor the cycles we’re in, and to hold gratitude and grief as equally valid teachers.
We can learn to approach our own gatherings—whether Thanksgiving, Friendsgiving, Shabbat dinner, Sunday meals, or quiet evenings at home—with a spirit of acknowledgment rather than performance. We can learn to name what sustains us and what weighs on us with gentleness. We can learn to see the world as relational, not extractive. And we can practice gratitude that doesn’t require pretending everything is fine.
A Simple, Respectful Practice for This Week
This is a BIW-style ritual you can weave into your holiday week to cultivate the gifts of holding space for ‘all.the.things’:
The Circle of Thanks and Release — 3 Minutes
- Settle your breath.
Inhale slowly through the nose. Exhale through the mouth. Let your shoulders drop. - Name one being or force that sustains your life right now.
“Today I give thanks for…”
Choose something real, specific, and grounded: warm food, a supportive friend, the tree outside your window, your own persistence. - Name one thing you’re letting go of.
Not a dramatic purge—just something true.
“And today I release…”
Maybe an expectation, a heaviness, a regret, a pressure you’ve been carrying. - Close with connection.
Place a hand on your heart. Say:
“Both things belong. I can hold both.”
That’s it.
A small circle. A moment of honesty.
A way to honor the season inspired by the wisdom of those who came before.
A way to step into balance the way the Haudenosaunee have modeled for centuries.
___________________
Begin Within
and align with the rhythm of nature and self.
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