Halloween, then Thanksgiving, and 20 minutes after that, Christmas. Because it’s that time of year to really look gratitude in the face, I wanted to write about two gifts I received some years back. I don’t like “looking for the silver lining” or “counting my lucky stars”. I’m interested in gratitude that feels real to me – that is part of the world where I live. I look for the cool in the yuck.
Rather than “looking for the silver lining”, a woman I knew for a short time many years ago suggested that I be grateful for the rain cloud. In other words, I am grateful for the roof I get to put on my house, the apology I get to make to my brother, and the havoc I get to wreak in my checking account. I like turning the problem on its ear and forcing myself to reconcile the privilege with the pain. It’s so easy for me to forget that the keys on my keychain are important representations of privilege: house, car, work, storage unit, and my brother’s house. If I’m honest, I probably complain about one of those things every day. When I can remember to be grateful for the quality of those problems - the “get” within and not the “silver” without - I am in a much better place.
I look up in the night sky as much as the next person, but personally I’d like something more tangible to count than “my lucky stars” – if counting is what I’m doing. I heard about the ABC gratitude list from a new friend when I first moved to San Diego. To be honest, I thought it seemed ridiculous. Simple for the simple-minded. And then one day… as the story goes… I landed in the emergency room pregnant with my first child, in trouble, and alone. I lay in that room waiting for Brad, and my friend’s list came to mind: “Start with the letter ‘A’ and name something you’re grateful for that begins with ‘A’.” So for me it went: A:apple, B:Brad, C:cat, D:dad and so forth. I repeated the alphabet very quickly without thinking about or judging the associations I made. It was sweet and kind of funny. I was still scared and alone, but that was a little bit more okay.
These stories are not meant to be Pollyanna band aids and in no way an echo of “this too shall pass.” For me they’re just a way to mix it up – to challenge my current perspective even for a few minutes. Of course I’ll still be sad, scared and angry. I don’t believe that gratitude is the absence of common sense or survival instincts. Gratitude is a fleeting infusion of context and peace. And the only way I know how to find it is by looking for the cool in the yuck.
