GRITTY GRATITUDE: A Letter to Gratitude
Dear Gratitude,
I owe you an apology. I haven’t fully appreciated our relationship. When I started keeping a gratitude journal at Oprah’s prompting in the late 90’s, I didn’t realize that this was only a small piece of the whole you.
Like asking someone to dinner and then dominating the conversation, I have missed the best of you because I just kept TALKING. Filling my journals (in a very on again / off again way) with all of the little things I’m grateful for each day.
I wrote and wrote diligently, creating a patchwork quilt of all of the good things. Things that kept me warm, fed my soul, gave me fuzzy feels and sweet dreams before bed.
And you and I could have stayed in this honeymoon phase for years, me gladly pocketing all of your wellbeing. You made me more present in my own life – the hug felt extra good, the pie tasted extra sweet, the walk through the woods was extra refreshing. I will forever give you credit for more happiness, more savoring, more noticing.
But recently, I’ve also noticed there is more to you. Another side that’s grittier, less rainbows and more rain, less tidy and joyful and more messy, less thank you for this win and more about loss.
I’m noticing in the adversity of the year known as 2020, that my vision has gotten clearer (20/20), and our relationship has deepened. Like a flash, I now see that you, Gratitude, sometimes require bravery. You, Gratitude, have made me more courageous.
I have a new level of appreciation for the times when things haven’t gone as planned and I’ve come out the other side – stronger, wiser, and more determined to create a life with more meaning and purpose. Recalling those experiences has been a saving grace when mired in this messy middle of uncertainty that defines this year; a year that’s been like driving in an early morning fog.
You’ve helped me inch my way through the low visibility and remember that I don’t have to figure it all out today. You provide the lines that help me to stay on the road, moving forward slowly, but safely. You help me to tackle each day on its own, not projecting too far into the future. You remind me that I can survive.
As I look back over my 48 years at the hard situations that I’m now grateful for, I see you’ve taught me lessons about strength and resilience and the temporariness of everything. In the challenges are meaning. In the disappointments are growth. In the chaos is the call to stay present and open.
Our new relationship reminds me of one of my favorite prayers, The Our Father, especially the line, give us this day our daily bread. Not bread for yesterday or tomorrow, but only what I need for today. Sometimes that’s a walk, sometimes it’s a nap, sometimes it’s digging in and working harder. You’ve helped me to learn to listen, to pay attention, to act on those inner knowings.
In looking for evidence of strength during difficult times, you are always a character in my stories. Maybe not at the beginning of a difficult plot, but most certainly at the end and beyond. I can now see the triumphs in the turbulence. And for that, I’m grateful for gritty gratitude; it’s helping me to have hope and to dare to thrive in the midst of all of the craziness.
First, you made me appreciative of my day, and now you’ve made me appreciative of my story, of who I am and how I got here. You’ve helped me to let go of the desire for a different story and see my own through a lens of compassion and admiration; from this place, I can draw determination and focus on forward action. And in the process, you’ve taught me how to appreciate myself, my pain, my flaws, and my quirks.
I like this side of you, and I’m not sure I could have found you in any other way than through all of the ups and downs of 2020.
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