Life can feel too full. Too full of work tasks, appointments, emails, messages and news, distractions from quiet and calm, from being in nature, from spending time with those we love, from doing the things we’re passionate about. But we can turn it around and realize that there’s a lot to be grateful for.
We can record our gratitude in a notebook tucked in a purse or briefcase, maybe sitting on the passenger seat of the car. What do you notice? What are the gifts that come your way? Where do you see magic?
A bird swoops up into a tree with a whoosh, and from above, it drops a leaf that catches in a child’s hair. The sun shines bright even though the rain was forecasted for the entire day. A rose continues to bloom red even in our darkest days. Large snowflakes fall across a window, settle into stillness on the glass, and disappear. An old friend crosses your path just as you were thinking of them, a nice surprise. One person prays and another’s prayer is answered.
I get great joy from human interaction. Recently, I spent time with a Jamaican woman who hasn’t heard from family and friends back home and took home a large basket of her homegrown tomatoes. I delivered a bundle of “thinking of you” cards to a church member who makes regular trips to England to spend time with her dying brother, and she was overwhelmed with joyful tears. I shared a long walk with our youngest daughter down our favorite trails, as she talked, I listened, and we came up with plans for her future. I had a rather long discussion with a Salvation Army bellringer about how charities suffer because no one carries cash. When looking at new arrivals at the library, a fellow patron told me he can’t work because his truck broke down and soon realized he’s the guy who picks up people’s castaways on the curb. These experiences show me how other people live, and it begets compassion.
Life can be a transformative journey when we pay attention to what’s going on and interact with it. Being grateful for life and everything it brings takes the glass from being half empty to half full. There are places, exchanges, and moments, experiences of awe, wonder, and silence. The big outside, a warm fire, a cozy throw, a glowing candle. Today and tomorrow, and the day after that.
I’m always touched by the people who say it’s a good day because they woke up in the morning. I should say that, “Yes, I’m awake, and I have a whole day of my life to live.” It’s such a grateful attitude and it makes me want to live the day well.
We hosted a dinner party at our house in October. We didn’t call it that, but it was a “friendsgiving.” We roasted a turkey and made stuffing and mashed potatoes. The guests brought all the sides—candied yams, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, pumpkin pie—we’re accustomed to, as if we’re in a humungous family with all the same traditions. It was a great evening of conversation, and the same feeling I get on Thanksgiving Day.
As we gather with our family tomorrow, our granddaughters will happily chase each other around the house, the adults will drink wine and nosh on charcuterie while waiting for dinner, and the oldest amongst us will wobble around with canes and tell stories. The sound of voices, the warmth from the fireplace, the aroma of good food, the sweet flavor of apple pie, and the comfort of hugs will lighten our hearts.
Not everyone feels thankful, especially when there’s no food or water, no shelter or bed to sleep on, no money to pay utility bills or rent, and no family to love. But those of us who have what we need should be thankful and compassionate. Our favorite charitable causes are waiting, and there are many in need. May we be attentive, may we be grateful, may we give from compassion.