I’ve said it before, but Thanksgiving seems a good time to repeat. Gratitude isn’t an attitude, but a deliberate practice, which like any other skill, builds as we do it more often, more concretely. While we’re all grateful for health, family, security and peace, those are abstractions.
Dr. Brene Brown, who has done extensive research with traumatized people says that when they undergo war, catastrophe or pain, they miss the ordinary things: a shaft of late afternoon light touching the dahlia’s peach-gold petals, “the way a wife set the table.” So in that spirit, I try to record specifics in my gratitude journal.
Looking back over a year of entries there, I seek patterns. Some things are constant: looking forward during the day to movies on PBS or Netflix at night, sun after rain, clean laundry baking on the line, surprise visits from my grandkids, who thankfully pop in and out of my days with charming quips.
It’s also interesting how often touchstones of memory appear. Hearing my yoga teacher’s voice, we’re back on our retreat in Tuscany, in the studio with terra cotta walls and cedar floor, hills and geraniums outside the windows. Or wearing a certain shirt, a vivid memory of the day I bought it with my daughter, our unanimous agreement that color and fit were perfect. Or leftovers savored the next day, which bring back the original restaurant or table at home, the group of family/friends gathered for a meal.
Then there’s the thrill of finding—the eyeglasses that were lost for months, suddenly turning up in the trunk of the car, the library book left on an airplane and kindly returned by a thoughtful passenger, the butter in the freezer that saves a trip to the store, pens under couches, earrings in coat pockets, a cookie from a trip, still not stale, work that won’t need to be redone, stored safely in the computer.
Nature appears often—from the first red leaves on the maple tree in spring to the last amber ones in fall, the way the sun in Northern California unfailingly clears the morning fog, hummingbirds dipping into the feeder, shining paths carved on the ocean by the light, the jewels left by rain on long grasses touched by sun. These beauties make me grateful for Celtic spirituality, which finds God in sacred landscape more than in the hierarchical structures of church.
Always grateful for a bonanza of library books—most recently,
The Covenant of Water, Abraham Verghese
The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store, James McBride
Tom Lake, Ann Patchett
The Book of Awakening, Mark Nepo
Blocks of time, especially those that come by surprise, always rate gratitude, maybe because I’ve felt short on time most of my life. An unscheduled afternoon or day feels like graced gift, and makes me appreciate the years of life I’ve been given, more than several friends and relatives who died prematurely.
The main value in reviewing causes for gratitude lies in prompting the reader’s own. No list is exhaustive; all are enriched by broader contributions. So, what makes YOU grateful?
Register for an online Advent Day of Prayer with Kathy Coffey December 2:
https://futurechurch.org/event/?=272 (free will offering)
Kathy Coffey 