When I retired from my position as executive director of IJM Canada at the end of 2018, I found it difficult at first to establish a new rhythm for my day. No longer tied to an 8 to 4 daily schedule, I had a tendency to aimlessly drift from one activity to another. And then, while I was on vacation in California in January, inspired by the Instagram account @morning.gratitude (to which I was introduced by an ultrarunner I follow on Instagram), I began to start the day by recording 10 things I am grateful for. Now, my almost daily rhythm after I finish breakfast is to settle into a comfortable spot by the gas fireplace in our living room, spend an hour reading, and then journal my 10 things.
It’s been difficult to come up with a list of 10 things day after day without repeating items from the previous day’s list. The first two or three spring to mind quite readily, often prompted by events of the previous day. The exercise often turns into a time of meditation as I enjoy the warmth of the fire, the stillness of the house, the quietness of our little dead-end street. In that silence, I begin to take stock of my surroundings, my physical and emotional condition, and the relationships and connections that sustain me. So many aspects of our existence that we feel are guaranteed were and are achieved at great cost, and should be regarded as gifts—safe drinking water available 24/7 by opening a tap; durable homes built according to codified standards; natural gas available to fuel a fireplace at a flick of a switch. Unless I intentionally pause and direct my thoughts in the direction of gratitude, I am unlikely to say “Thank you” for these and many other provisions.
Pages from my journal. If you can read my scratchy writing, you’ll get a sense of the range of emotions, experiences and things that appear in my morning gratitude lists.
Our survival instincts hardwire us to be on the guard for the negative, and we can easily overfocus on it. Author Thomas Oppong says, “Like a river shapes land, the more we think and feel a certain way, the deeper the river channel becomes and the more likely we are to think and feel the same way in the future.” Unexpectedly positive or beautiful experiences—like a rainbow in the desert—jolt us out of this rut. Joyful surprise is the beginning of gratefulness, a foot in the door of negativity. Yesterday morning I scanned our backyard for any crocus blooms, and there were none. By afternoon, to my surprise, there were many. What a few hours of sunshine on an early spring day can accomplish! The movement to gratefulness is like waking up—waking up to the realization that everything is gift. In his book Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer, Benedictine monk David Steindl-Rast writes, “the degree to which we are awake to this truth [that everything is gift] is the measure of our gratefulness. And gratefulness is the measure of our aliveness. Are we not dead to whatever we take for granted?”
There are many helpful online resources regarding making gratefulness a discipline. Research seems to indicate that “something as simple as writing down three things you’re grateful for every day for 21 days in a row” significantly increases a person’s level of optimism, and the effects are lasting. Just as it is possible for a river to carve a new path for itself, we can rewire our brains for happiness. In a post a year ago, I described a critical inflection point in my life (43 years ago now): “For years I had suffered from low-grade depression, a moroseness that might fit the clinical term dysthymia. One day, like a revelation from heaven, I realized that my moods were significantly under my control. ‘I can be happy if I try’, I wrote in the little journal I kept at the time.” Neuroscientists now believe that the more practice we give our brain at feeling and expressing gratitude, the more it adapts to this mindset; “the more of an effort you make to feel gratitude one day, the more the feeling will come to you spontaneously in the future.”
Of course, there are some events that are difficult (if not impossible) to portray as gifts without resorting to the unsatisfying “It could have been worse” mantra—the loss of a job, the death of a loved one, the diagnosis of an incurable illness. Then, it’s vital to make the distinction between feeling grateful and being grateful. Even when the emotions of disappointment, grief and fear are present, we can choose a prevailing attitude of gratefulness that sees life in its entirety as a gift, and refuse to be overwhelmed by the temporary circumstances. We are all more or less broken and all fighting despair more or less often, but as Robert Emmons says, “In the face of brokenness, gratitude has the power to heal. In the face of despair, gratitude has the power to bring hope.” Henri Nouwen in his little book Life of the Beloved talks about “putting our brokenness under the blessing”, which I take to mean not denying the negativity of our experience but rather recasting and reframing it in a grateful perspective that permits personal growth and personal gain.
Just as it is a matter of perspective whether there is a shortage of water in the desert or exactly the right amount, so we can decide whether to be grateful or to be bitter. Nouwen writes, “Where there is a reason for gratitude, there can always be found a reason for bitterness. It is here that we are faced with the freedom to make a decision.” By choosing gratitude we will be healthier, happier, a source of inspiration and hope for others, and will contribute to the growth of a community of gratitude.
Unless otherwise noted, all photos and text © 2019 Edwin Wilson.
