Thanks, But No Thanks

I admit it. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. I did a few healthy things, like drinking decaf and reminding my lab Hector that dogs are indeed superior. I did my mindfulness practice and refrained from turning on the news.

My disposition soured further, however, when I discovered that my inbox seemed overtaken by the gratitude police, prodding me into everything from a gratitude journal to starting a gratitude text string, or writing a heartfelt letter to the three people who have most influenced my life, “with specific detail” about why I was thankful. 

The icing on the cake was falling hostage to a chatty colleague in the coffee line (let’s face it, decaf is no match for days like this) who insisted on reciting a litany of things he felt “blessed” by, a phrase that somehow sets off warning bells that I’m about to get told about a bunch of things that the teller has that I don’t.  

Naturally, I wanted to vomit. Double espresso, please.  

Sometimes I just wake up grouchy. I don’t feel like counting blessings. I feel like telling the world, “Get your sh!t together.” I don’t want to hear excuses or shine or circle up and sing kumbaya. I want things to be better. I want people to do better. Now.  

A recent attendee of our Mindfulness Works program (second Tuesdays, Teton County Library, 9 AM) expressed a similar, if classier sentiment. She’d started the practice of having each family member share something they were grateful for and admitted that it started to feel like a chore. “They say the same thing every night. ‘Dinner.’ ‘A house.’ ‘Clothes,’” she shared, and admitted that of course they were all grateful for these things, but there was simply no spring in gratitude’s step when it felt forced or rote. I could totally relate. 

“Just stop doing that,” I blurted out, remembering exactly when I had deposited all the gratitude Post-it notes from my sons in the garbage. (How many scraps of paper do I need that say, “Basketball”?)  

Instead of trying to command and control an emotion or state of mind, why not give over to the simple act of noticing gratitude when it arrives. Pause, and soak up the real experience. The act of checking a box is not akin to noticing the sensations, moods and thoughts that arise spontaneously when we make ourselves available to the experience of the present moment. That is the whole point. Not to persuade ourselves into or out of particular moods or experiences, but to get more skillful with the act of noticing itself, and to build our ability to remain balanced whether caffeinated or not.

Ironically, the brain, which likes uni-tasking, will be a willing conspirator in regulating your mood and even enhancing it when you simply pay attention to what is actually happening instead of trying to force things to be other than what they are. 

It’s Thanksgiving. I love this holiday the most, honestly, and I don’t even like turkey. I’m usually all-in for the thanks-giving part, noticing the small things in everyday life that end up being scaffolding for rich and meaningful days. I really do feel grateful to live so close to the ground, where natural beauty is as accessible as breath. I am grateful to walk into the grocery store and have a handful of conversations with funny, thoughtful, smart people because our community is full of them and mostly, people here are kind. I appreciate living in a state where generational friendships are common, where despite headlines, it really does feel like living in one small town with a very long Main Street. I am genuinely inspired, usually more than once, but what someone is doing or saying or sharing in daily life here.  

(Confession, just writing that paragraph made me feel less awful.) 

What I’m getting at, really, is that when the self-improvement list gets longer than what your memory can hold, I offer up another way. Stop. Just ease up. It’s OK to not be thankful for everything all the time. Some things are outrageous and deserve your anger. Sometimes, your heart breaks because things are really that bad. So, the thing to do is feel what you feel. Notice what you notice.  

You might unclench a little. Maybe even feel better. And then, gawd-damn it, you might even feel grateful. 

Sara Flitner