Revisiting Gratitude
Gratitude for dinner? How to take in the good stuff
Some housekeeping before we get into gratitude. First, I put together some past resources to support you this holiday season, and that is linked at the bottom of this article, so don’t miss that. Second, mark it on your calendar—next week is the first ever A Wonderful Mess Community Discussion Thread, co-hosted with
and . You will get all the details in your inbox on Monday, December 2nd.If I am being honest, this is revisiting, revisiting1 gratitude. This piece was published for the first time on my old WordPress blog. Then, I refreshed it here and published it last November. And now, I have refreshed it again.
Here is some food for thought on gratitude this Thanksgiving week…
Gratitude is the topic today, but this is not about starting a gratitude journal. Don’t get me wrong, if you find benefit from a gratitude journal, power to you. Research has shown that writing in a gratitude journal several days a week is helpful. I have done the gratitude journal myself many times, but more on that in a little bit. Journals aside, a few months ago, I started to think about lost opportunities for gratitude. It started with my children’s routine well-child visits with their pediatrician. From a physical health perspective, my kids were doing well. There was discussion about different supports we were sorting out for the school, but overall, things were going okay, which was great. However, I only realized that was great until a day or two later. I had moved on so quickly and checked the box done on the to-do list. There was no reflection on their health (or the fact that they navigated a doctor’s appointment without tearing the room apart). It hit me that there was an opportunity for gratitude that was quickly skipped over. After reflecting on how thankful I am for their overall health, the thought occurred to me that there are likely many more missed opportunities for gratitude every day.
Gratitude Journals
Back to journals. As I mentioned, I have done gratitude journals in the past, so the idea of a gratitude practice is familiar. I was first introduced in graduate school. In a positive psychology course, I started a gratitude journal as part of a class assignment. I found the practice helpful and continued it after the class was over. At the time, along with the stresses of being a graduate student, my mother had terminal cancer. The process of expressing gratitude most days, even for the smallest moment, was like putting on little bandaids. Noting a laugh with a friend, a satisfying run on the Charles River2, or savoring my daily coffee was a comfort during a tumultuous time. I dutifully wrote my little moments in a notebook by my bed. It became a ritual to hold onto when I was in what felt like a daily free fall. I cannot recall when or why I eventually stopped, but I am willing to guess it just faded as my daily rhythm changed. In my post-graduate, young family phase of life, I did attempt to re-engage with gratitude journaling, but it was always very short-lived. So many well-being interventions add yet another thing to do, and even though it had been helpful in the past, it just wasn’t happening.
The journal would sit next to my bed, designed to be the “cue”. At this point, I was pretty good at finding content for the journal, but it was the doing that was the problem. Already so tired at the end of the day, the idea of doing one more thing felt like too much. I would write in the journal for days, maybe a month at best, and then it would start to collect dust. In a predictable cycle, I would become motivated to try again due to a seasonal transition like a new year, or my stress level would increase. Feeling pulled by a “should”, I would attempt. I have never doubted the power of gratitude but it appeared the act of journaling was the problem. Eventually, I attempted to ditch the act of writing and do a simple review of the “good stuff” in my mind at night. I would set up a “cue” with a reminder on my phone but much like the journaling, the reminder would buzz away to no avail. The heaviness of doing one more thing, even when it was only to think some thoughts was not going to happen. So, what have I learned from this? Stop trying to do anything at night. Frankly, this is not a gigantic revelation, given that as a teen, I would self-initiate a 9:00 PM bedtime, much to the amusement of my friends. The night is not my best time. I have learned to accept my evening limits, but it doesn’t quite solve the puzzle of how to practice gratitude.
When I read
’s book, Real Self-Care (Crystals, Cleanses, and Bubble Baths Not Included)* I appreciated how Lakshmin describes the practice of gratitude— “as not as counting your blessings but as a form of digestion”. The following passage from her book further explains the benefits of gratitude:“When we pay attention to the fruits of what we have in our life already, whether that is the small pleasures like our morning cup of coffee or bigger achievements like a job promotion or a healthy family —we actively engage with what is real and true in our world. And the reality is that for all of us, there is good along with the bad—no matter how burned out or drained we feel in the moment. The purpose of gratitude in this context doesn’t involve toxic positivity or self-delusion. Rather, gratitude is a practice to tune your attention to what you have, so that you can then go on to appreciate what future good will come your way.”
I appreciate the frame of “digesting the good.” There is something about the idea of digesting that feels available, maybe because we already digest multiple times a day in the literal sense. I eat every day, multiple times, so I can also “digest” some good stuff, too. Using digestion as our guide, we can highlight helpful elements of a gratitude practice. In this season of life, this is how I am practicing gratitude. Three elements that can support gratitude are mindful awareness, savoring, and acknowledgment.
Mindful Awareness: If you can’t see the “good stuff”, how can you eat it?
Attempting to find some kid shoes in a dark car in a dark garage, I was feeling around and bumping into things. Then I thought to myself-- “just use the flashlight in your pocket.” With my phone light, I quickly found the shoes. Your flashlight is mindful awareness, without it, it’s pretty darn hard to see the good stuff. A breath, a pause, or an intention can help you bring your focus to what’s happening in the present moment and closer to seeing the whole meal. You can take a pause later to reflect on the day’s happenings using this flashlight of attention as well. You don’t need to find the extraordinary or spectacular, the small stuff is worth your attention. This sometimes has more utility for a meaningful gratitude practice. A smile at a child, a moment of laughter, a completed load of laundry or a warm meal can all be more than enough.
Savor: Chewing and swallowing are required
It does take a little bit more than seeing the good thing and saying, “Yep, that thing happened today.” From a brain perspective, just a little bit of savoring can help that “good stuff” stick. Taking in the feelings of the moment, noting the sensory experience, or replaying the moment later in your mind helps it stick around longer. Chewing supports healthy digestion.
Acknowledge: Take a minute before you get up from the table
Ok, you saw the food, you ate it and now you run off to the next thing? If you jump up onto the next thing you may forget what you just ate. It only takes a minute to appreciate. You can throw in a simple acknowledgment of how or why this is something you are grateful for. Acknowledgment provides an opportunity to connect it to your values. As Lakshmin explains in Real Self-Care,
“…by taking the time to explicitly name our values, we can use them to inform future decisions so that we are setting ourselves up for more experiences that are truly nourishing.”
With gratitude, there is still room on the plate for it all
Gratitude practice is not about platitudes or only thinking about the positive. You can have the hard stuff and the good stuff on the same plate, both can have the attention they deserve. You can be present with the struggle, give yourself the compassion you deserve, and appreciate the good stuff and give it the moment it deserves to be felt and appreciated.
On an episode of The Way Out is In Podcast (Episode #55 Spiritual Journey: No Quick Fixes) with Brother Phap Huu and Jo Confino, they capture this concept well from the Buddhist perspective:
“Suffering, as a noble truth, teaches us the values of life and allows us to know what peace is. If you only live in peace, you don’t have gratitude for the wonderful conditions that you have. But if we meet suffering, it reminds us of the life that we’ve experienced and the life that we want to create together.”
So gratitude is a good thing. I will keep trying but not with a journal or phone reminder. I am bringing it with me, out into the wild. I will leave you with another excerpt from The Way Out Is In Podcast:
“The Buddha said happiness and suffering are two truths that always go together. As long as there’s that thick mud, there can be some flowers there.”
If we only look at the mud, we will never see the flowers. I will look at both the mud and flowers, but only before 9:00 PM.
A gift for you…
Last December, I put together short weekly videos to help people with some ideas on managing holiday stress. I’ve put them all together here as a gift for you. Take what is helpful and leave the rest.
*I am an affiliate of bookshop.org, if you purchase through this link I will earn a small commission (at no extra cost to you)
As always—Just a little reminder: The content on A Wonderful Mess posted by Dr. Kathryn Barbash, PsyD is for educational and entertainment purposes only and is not intended to be a substitute for medical, clinical, legal, or professional advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Reliance on any information provided is solely at your own risk. Always seek the advice of your licensed mental health professional or other qualified health provider.
Grammarly hates this word repetition
We lived in Boston at the time. The Charles was one of my favorite places to run and remains special in my heart.