I’ve been missing out on a tradition the past half-dozen years: the Thanksgiving feast.

No, I’ve not been protesting the Pilgrims, though I do question their hats. My diet is the culprit.

I’ve been a vegetarian since 2002, a vegan since 2006, and a raw vegan since 2007.

A raw vegan diet consists of no meat or dairy products, only raw fruits and vegetables.

So, it’s yet another year without turkey and stuffing for me. But I’m starting to get the hang of it. In fact, I’ve never felt healthier. For one thing, stomach problems that plagued me since high school have diminished almost completely.

But you might wonder how I can enjoy Thanksgiving without the usual holiday fare.

The trick is to make meaning beyond the meal.

Look at it this way: The only reason a turkey ends up on every plate anyway is because it’s a flightless bird that can’t escape.

I mean, come on — my carrots are tougher to catch than those things.

If a flightless bird must be on the menu, make it a challenge — maybe an ostrich, or at least a road runner, which can fly but prefers a runner’s high.

I personally celebrate a more peaceful coexistence with my fellow creatures, human and nonhuman alike: I eat neither.

To avoid consuming flesh is an uplifting feeling; besides, as a meat eater I realized that, by not bagging my own game, I was only a scavenger, like a hyena. I even had the laugh to prove it.

And not being a real hunter, my only remaining choice is gathering. That cornucopia you find in the corner on Thanksgiving? That’s mine.

When I first started my raw food diet, I was pretty judgmental of others. I never criticized anyone aloud, but I did silently condemn people’s food picks — especially those who complained after stuffing themselves silly.

I’ve come to realize that my anger stemmed from jealousy. You see, once you make a choice you believe is good for you, it’s easy to forget why you made it.

I’ve since learned to celebrate others’ choices, often asking people to describe their meals to me in excruciating detail.

In this way, I don’t feel I’m missing out so much. So, please be prepared to relate the texture of your pumpkin cheesecake to me.

You and I, we will trade. You will remind me what turkey tastes like, and stuffing, and those crunchy things on top of the green bean casserole.

People are amazingly supportive, and genuinely curious. For the most part, though, people just want to understand. They go out of their way to accommodate me: apples, oranges, bananas, whatever they’ve got.

Oh, I do get offered the occasional brown lemon, orphaned long ago at the bottom of the salad crisper. But it’s the spirit that counts.

And that’s my point, I think: the spirit of an evolving holiday is what really counts — that, and sharing it with friends and family.

Despite tradition, we evolve — hats and all — but always continuing to find greatness in gratefulness.

Jarrod Harelik of Waco is an English instructor at McLennan Community College, soon to begin graduate studies at Goddard College.