Firecracker and Whisper

All through the day, regardless of the troubles we face, there are things that exist in our lives that are positive, hopeful, beautiful, or good. If this weren’t true, then the world would have ended. I guess you could say that the definition of the end of the world is the state of complete lack of good things. Until then, there are good things.

This is good.

Sometimes, though, it feels like our world is ending, or at least shifting towards something we urgently don’t want. These are times when processing the hardship is foremost and necessary, and the good things are not so recognizable. These times will come, but thankfully life otherwise hums along in a mostly steady-state and we encounter a mix of good and bad, but nothing world-ending. During these times, the odd thing is, we don’t always recognize how many good things surround us, and this takes a low-grade but accumulating toll. Or at least it’s a missed opportunity.

We’re built to notice bad things more readily than the good. This knack of ours has its advantages. However, it can become our go-to sometimes, and this is not a happy way to spend the day, nor necessary, nor optimal. Even during the tough times, we’d be better positioned to get ourselves out of the muck by pointing ourselves toward the light rather than the dark. This is where gratitude comes in.

We all know gratitude, of course, but what if we knew it more intimately, the way we know the feel of rain or the sound of a voice?

There are various ways to become more grateful, all of which can lead to greater awareness of what’s positive about our lives. For example, there is an old technique of naming three good things that happened to you recently. They could be anything at all, big or small, that made you appreciative. This long-standing exercise reinforces the existence of good in our lives and helps us to become more inclined to notice other goodness in the future. You want to play? I’ll start.

Off the top of my head, here are three positive things from yesterday.

The Kindness:

While I was poking around the outdoor garden center of my local Walmart, I approached a garden hose running along the ground between the tables piled high with flowering plants. Just before I wheeled my cart over the hose, a fellow shopper to my left who was scrolling on his phone suddenly pocketed his phone and ran over to turn a section of the hose halfway around so that a leak that was shooting up into my path would now spray into the ground.

He did this just for me. I was so touched. I thanked him with the biggest smile. “Thank you so much. That is so sweet of you.” He nodded with modesty, goodwill, and a smile back.

It was a shared moment of random kindness and thankfulness, an exemplar reason for gratitude.

The Appreciation:

At that point, I made my way over towards the check-out counter to pay for my plants. A young, burly fellow started to scan my things. He looked to be in his twenties and had a serious look on his face that might have been boredom or fatigue or shyness, but maybe simply a restful expression. He also had two quite striking silver necklaces around his neck: a pair of wings and a leaping horse. They looked sort of Renaissance and were intricately molded; very beautiful, and I said so. “Your necklaces are incredible.”

The look on his face immediately changed. He smiled and sheepishly looked down his front, briefly handling one of the necklaces. “Thanks,” he said, and from that point on we started to chat about small nothings in an earnest effort to connect with each other because I had appreciated something that was important to him. The routine check-out process had suddenly become a few minutes of good cheer, and it infused each of us with a small but real jolt of positive experience.

It was two folks finding a way—however small--to genuinely connect with each other; a wonderful reason for gratitude.

The Awe:

As a few birds tweeted goodbye from the rafters in the store above me, I pulled my jolly adopted plants out of the garden center and into the parking lot. That’s when my jaw dropped. What met my eyes was beyond anything. The sun was sitting right on the horizon. It was enormous and phantom orange and precisely outlined for all to see. You could see the whole thing. It was huge. If you saw it, you would have felt awe too.

I turned around and walked straight back to the Walmart employee stationed at the garden exit. I beckoned him to stick his head out of the doorway as I pointed to the sun. “Look!” He was slightly hesitant, but he poked his head out and looked to where I was pointing.

“Ooooh!” he said with sudden surprise. His face was as amazed as mine. “That’s beautiful.”

“I know, right?”

“Thank you for telling me.” He smiled knowingly. He understood why I was showing. It was too big a gift not to share with others. We waved goodbye to each other, as we were now sunset friends.

I proceeded towards my car but didn’t make it far. I crossed paths with a young man walking towards the store. “Look,” I said to him, pointing. He took a drag of his cigarette and looked at me warily, but maybe I was alerting him to danger, so he turned around and glanced backwards. Then he saw it, too. He turned back around and gave me the biggest grin, and with the sweetest voice said, “Thank you, ma’am. You just made my day.” And I believed him.

It was random folks enjoying the spectacular together, a marquee reason for gratitude.

No doubt, we’re living in tricky times. It’s been a while since the world woke up in the morning, stretched, and said mid-yawn, “Well, here comes another typical day.” Some folks and places have had especially atypical days. Knowing that others have really struggled can make gratitude feel a bit indulgent, or it can make that which we’re grateful for feel asymmetrically good. But I don’t think the story ends there.

Maybe I would divide gratitude into two types: the big firecracker type, and the small whisper type. Our gratitude for big things like opportunity, safety, and resources is often felt when we realize how fortunate we are by comparison. These are the times when gratitude for what we have can feel indulgent, especially in the face of a global pandemic or war or large-scale economic woe. And yet, to acknowledge our fortunate circumstances is an important step towards a gratitude that engenders a desire to give back or help others. In this way, gratitude is a vehicle for positive change and compassion. It seems like it’s a precursor to such things.

Then there are the small whispers of the goodness in the world which, to my mind, are what come with being alive. They are the first bumblebee of the season roaming around in the air, the kindness of strangers, the very funny scene on TV, the warmth in your mouth of the tea. These are moments to savor, and then afterwards, small gratitude can creep in if we let it. For me, these small gems of life go a long way toward keeping my outlook upbeat. They seem to help me process stress and difficulty faster and better.

Sometimes it’s just too worrisome a day for me to remember how relatively safe and secure my life is. But on those days, when the cherry blossoms drift and flutter through the wind, I’m reminded of how matter-of-fact lovely the Spring is around here. It happens to be so lovely that I can appreciate it even while mourning a death, fretting about the future, or being concerned about my kids. It’s a tiny bridge between where I am and where I want to land as soon as possible.

I think so often about the incredible luck it was to be born into this body, with its mind that perceives the inherent majesty out there, for the brief but extravagant experience of being human. I’m like anyone: some of my days are not the cat’s meow. But for all the rest of the days—it seems like a logical conclusion that it’s my duty to appreciate them.

And here’s the interesting thing: thankfulness isn’t as much about propriety as it is about creating a better world. The gratitude we give out to the world comes back to us two-fold. It simply makes us a more grateful person. Imagine the effect a grateful person has on the world.

At the end of my coaching sessions, I often ask my clients one last question:

What are you grateful for?

It’s not a question necessarily connected to our coaching. It’s not inspired from any of my training. And I don’t always ask it because sometimes it doesn’t seem like it would fit. But I always wish for my clients this momentary connection to their own goodness. I wish this for anybody.

And so, my friends, what are you grateful for?