For This, I am Grateful

I’ve been thinking a lot about gratitude lately. Gratitude is something we all tend to carve space out for during the Thanksgiving holiday, but I’ve been thinking about it in the framework of why do we think that one day to pay tribute to what we are thankful for is enough? I read two essays in The New York Times on the subject that resonated with how I’ve been feeling of late. The first most present account was written by Sarah Wildman and explored our need to feign self-sufficiency and how the pandemic has made many of us realize that individual pursuit doesn’t deliver the muscle, grit or satisfaction that we thought it would. She explores what it takes to be open to the generosity of others offering help, gifts, kindness, and to stop saying “no thank you” from the fear that it may expose your inner wants or needs. She also suggests that we are not “fine” (who could be after the last 20 months) so we could start by stop giving such a pat response when people ask, "How are you?"

I also re-read David Brooks' 2015 column on gratitude. David Brooks and I shouldn’t have much in common, he is a social conservative (although leaning more to the left these days) and I am a liberal (also leaning more to the left these days). But he bites off romantic concepts that I find myself missing as I grow older, such as character, morality, and joy. He is a conservative that believes in commonality, and I respect that he has changed his positions as he has experienced the trials and tribulations of marriage, the pandemic, and the American political system. I also respect that he isn’t riddled with skepticism and cynicism as is often the new flavor of generations younger than me. Ideals are worth having, in my humble opinion. My favorite part of his gratitude column is this poignant observation:

"Gratitude is also a form of social glue. In the capitalist economy, debt is to be repaid to the lender. But a debt of gratitude is repaid forward, to another person who also doesn’t deserve it. In this way each gift ripples outward and yokes circles of people in bonds of affection. It reminds us that a society isn’t just a contract based on mutual benefit, but an organic connection based on natural sympathy — connections that are nurtured not by self-interest but by loyalty and service.”

So in pursuit of social glue and for Day 21 in my @BestSelfCo Edison Deck Challenge, I sought out the "Self" card on gratitude that asks, “What 10 things are you most grateful for now?” (I added the emphasis on now, since it could be taken as in this moment, but I’m interpreting it as in this point in my life.)

1. I am grateful for the freedom to choose my friends. I’m not talking about the clickable friend requests that appear online, I’m talking about those that see you, talk to you, and accept you. I have friends that are male, female, gender fluid, racially diverse, think like me, don’t think like me, are of various ages, and backgrounds. No one dictates (no person, no algorithm, or social expectation) who can be my friend, and I am grateful for that. I am fortunate to live in a place where fear doesn’t control my actions, and I’m in a stage in my life where I recognize that an open heart invites others in. I often think about Malala Yousafzai whose memoir I am Malala: The Story of the Girl Who Stood Up for Education and was Shot by the Taliban. She made me understand gratitude in a different way. How eloquently she expressed how important it was to not live in fear even in the face of losing your life for the simplest of rights, the importance and impact of having friends of all beliefs, and how having a father that believed in her right to an education despite the costs gave her strength and humility.

2. I am grateful for discovering the power of joy. Joy is hard to describe to someone that doesn’t feel it or has lost it. The Swiss Calvinist Karl Barth probably has the most succinct definition: “Joy is the simplest form of gratitude.” The Bible defines joy as “gladness not based on circumstance" [1 Peter 1:8-9]; the yogi mystic Sadhguru says, “Joy is a natural phenomenon. Misery is your creation,” and perhaps the timeliest reminder of why we need joy was posed by poet Maya Angelou who wrote, “We need joy as we need air.” Recently I discovered I had been slowly suffocating while trying to catch my breath in an atmosphere of circumstance and complexity. I had to slow down, find how to quiet my inner mind and the outer world, and surround myself with unconditional love to be able to hear the whisperings of joy. For me, the moments of joy are fleeting, but its effect endures long after the initial spark.

3. I am grateful for the unexpected. One of the analogies that I loved about David Brooks’ dissection of gratitude is that we are much more grateful when we are delightfully surprised by the unexpected (i.e. the waffle maker at the budget motel). These unexpected moments are not usually writ large, but are small thoughtful gestures that bring happiness, a wave of nostalgia and/or whimsical wonder. On Thanksgiving evening, I was walking the dog around the block and turned the corner of our familiar route to find twinkling, festive Christmas lights in full glory. They hadn’t been there the evening before, and I didn’t expect it. It made me smile, it brought flickering joy, and it reminded me that even the most mundane routines can be spiced up with unexpected happiness. We just have to take a moment to let it in. Brother David Steindl-Rast is a Benedictine monk and teacher, and has a TED talk on being grateful that has been viewed over 3 million times. He describes gratitude as the moment that joy fills us up unexpectedly without warning, quite spontaneously, and without the need to articulate the “why” of such joy. When we reach a point when joy overflows in us, we are compelled to sing or express our thanks to others. This he calls thanksgiving. Gratefulness is the moment when we can articulate both our thankful intent and the why of our joy. He uses the analogy of the cup as in “my cup runneth over.” When the cup is full and spills over sparkling with the purest of intentions, we share it with others. Most of us have learned to make the cup bigger never allowing it to overflow, never allowing it to spill over, always waiting for something better: deeper love, more prosperity, a more supporting family or perhaps a more ambitious goal. The secret to gratefulness is in the downsizing of your gratitude cup. Rather than making your cup big, make it small, so it spills over every day, unexpectedly. That is how to live a grateful life, everyday.

4. I am grateful for those that are committed to others’ recovery. This year, healthcare has been on my mind. Not just as I recover from an accident, but as I see friends, family, colleagues and people I don’t know grapple with illness, disease, or mental trauma. Those that have dedicated their careers and their purpose to helping the afflicted and compromised in some way to become their “best self” and “recover” are extraordinary agents of hope. They combine expertise with transcendence, making us believe that whatever our outcome, we will be better somehow than we were before. We may be stitched, mended, transfused, immunity-enhanced, or psychically calmed – it doesn’t matter -- because we are recovering. I recently reupholstered furniture cushions that were disintegrating and thought about that term “recover.” It means to give a second life, to blend a new look with an old perspective, to bring the best of both without losing either profile. I like that. I am grateful for the possibility of recovery.

5. I am grateful for desire. They say that every good intention begins with desire. We certainly need more “good” in the world, so let’s unleash the catalyst of desire. The type of desire that I am grateful for is the type that burns in your belly, your heart, and resonates just under the skin. It's desire that you can’t shake off because it is so tightly tied to your purpose. I love Deepak Chopra’s list of questions to ask yourself in order to hone in on what desires are your inherent life’s purpose and his guidance on how to manifest them. I have never been short on purpose or desire. There have been times in my life that I have been made fun of, ridiculed, or criticized for having unrealistic desires. I am grateful that those desires had the ability to drown out the call to be practical, realistic or to be something that I am not. The purposeful desire that I am grateful for is the one that is uniquely mine, that brings out the best parts of me or the unique parts of me that is bigger than the ego; the type of desire that makes the world a better place. I am grateful for the knowledge that when I connect to that place, nothing seems impossible.

6. I am grateful for intention. In the mindfulness teachings, after desire comes intention. Afterall, without intention desires are only a list of wants. Intention puts desires into action. It is the fuel, the turbo boost, and the navigation system all bundled into a powerful additive. For those who say things like “wishing won’t make it so” or “hope is not a strategy” perhaps they do so because they suffer from lack of imagination or experience with the desire and intention relationship. When the two meet, the outcome can outsmart the academics, disrupt the pundits, outperform the markets, and create an outcome that is much more than the sum of its parts. There have been times in my life when I have tapped into this power, perhaps at first by happenstance but the outcome existed all the same. I am grateful for the way that intention focuses desire through purposeful actions. The part I am still working on is letting go of all expectations. Executives like me have been trained to set expectations, deliver expectations, and somehow manifest on multiple expectations without any room for failure. That is not only impossible, but in truth, is nothing more than gamesmanship. Expectation divorced from a benevolent desire and intention leaves no room for ethics or collective good. I am grateful to have learned the difference.

7. I am grateful for the imperfect. I have come to believe that perfection is a scam. It is a multi-level scheme that aligns itself with the most powerful motivation tool ever discovered – inconsistent praise and outcome. Inconsistent praise in children has been proven to be a powerful motivator of soliciting a certain desired action or outcome. The child continues to strive to do the action or improve upon the outcome when the praise isn’t predictable. The scepter of perfectionism does the same thing, it dangles an unrealistic nirvana should perfection be achieved. But perfect isn’t ever attainable. It is an empty cup at the top of a mountain. By the time you reach it you are oxygen-deprived and parched with thirst, and unlikely to survive the disappointment. In contrast, the imperfect is what distinguishes and allows humankind to adapt and flourish. And in the words of Marilyn Monroe, “Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” Here’s to being grateful for the imperfect and to not being boring.

8. I am grateful for nature. Speaking of the imperfect, there is no more beautiful example than nature. It restores, hibernates, takes root and puts out new growth, blooms, and dies back. It is a feast for the eyes and for the other senses. It is never static. Nature is full of grace and it is chaos mixed with unbridled power. It was Yeats who said, “Everything in nature is resurrection.” For me it only takes a walk in the woods, a stroll on the beach, or smelling the sweet scent of the evergreens after the rain to renew my faith and gratitude. During the pandemic, it was the ability to hear the birds sing, to see endangered species flourish without human interruption, and to see the greening of our urban cities take shape that gave me peace. I no longer take nature for granted and I also don’t underestimate its ability to take back the mess we have made and recreate it in its own image. I am grateful for nature’s ability to supplant religion and create a spiritual retreat accessible to anyone who pauses a moment to take it in. No hymnal or dogma required.

9. I am grateful for vulnerability. Vulnerability is “in” these days. Partly because it has been made acceptable and humorous by author/sociologist Brené Brown. Those who know me well will attest that I am a risk taker and will almost always take the dare. So, when I read Brown’s book Daring Greatly, I found the pathway between being vulnerable and being bold. In her own words, “Daring greatly means the courage to be vulnerable. It means to show up and be seen. To ask for what you need. To talk about how you’re feeling. To have the hard conversations.” I think all of us have been called to the brink of vulnerability with the COVID-19 pandemic as well as being faced with hard conversations. Questions such as who am I? What is my purpose? Am I privileged? What is an anti-racist? What is the hierarchy of work? Or whatever happened to love thy neighbor? My experience is that when I have been vulnerable and those around me were equally so, we have grown closer, the bond has deepened, and it has made me believe in compassion. When I think about vulnerability I think about the softest part of my dog’s fur – under his chin and in front of his larynx and jugular, so vulnerable and only accessible to those he trusts to stroke him with unconditional love. Vulnerability comes from both trust and giving space to the concept that we are enough. The belief that we can be awkward, kind, and grateful all at the same time. In doing so, we become vulnerable, lovable, and the best part of our humanity shines through. Yes, there are those that prey on the vulnerable, but they are motivated by a deep lack and insecurity in themselves, stomping out anything that reminds them that they too, have a vulnerable soul. It’s a fool’s errand to think that vulnerability will lose the long game. I am grateful for being reminded that I am enough and for trusting that through vulnerability comes love. We all know that love is the long game.

10. I am grateful for the surpassing moment. You might ask, what is a “surpassing moment?” If you are a sports fan, you’ve experienced it in a magnificent play that wins the game in the final seconds of the clock. Or if you are an athlete and that feeling you have when you achieve a personal best that feels both effortless and magical. Musicians and music lovers alike can feel it in a live performance when every note falls into place and the experience is pure transcendence, lifting us to a place we didn’t know we could go. It’s the moment that changes everything, and hangs as if in temporary silence, filled with awe and indescribable reverence. It’s the feeling when you’ve been struck with Cupid’s arrow, when your newborn child is placed in your arms, and when the unexplainable appears offering a moment of peace to grief, chaos, or suffering. Surpassing moments can’t be planned, predicted, or manufactured. But they happen because of the many moments that we have attended to prior. For the sports team, moments spent building skills, collaboration, and communication. For the athlete, the many hours dedicated to training, improving, strengthening and goal setting. For the lovestruck and new parent, it’s the ability to remain open for love and life to enter one’s heart. For the grieving and suffering, it is the many moments of grace coming back to roost and repair. Yes, I am grateful, especially in a time when more than 5 million people across the globe have lost their lives to a single pandemic. I believe that when each of us are presented with a surpassing moment, we will recognize it, stop in its wonder, and find a way to take care of each other. I am grateful for all those that continue to set the groundwork, are attentive to the needs of others, and recognize how much we need surpassing moments in our lives.