What is Authentic Gratitude?
The “Gratitude” Industry must be huge. Countless books and journals focus on the topic, including titles such as The One Minute Gratitude Journal; Good Days Start with Gratitude, TheGratitude Journal for Men, The Gratitude Journal for Women (because of course gratitude differs across gender lines?), and The Psychology of Gratitude, to name just a few. Preachers preach and counselors counsel about the importance of gratitude in our lives. The USA even has a national holiday dedicated to the topic. But I confess to feeling like the concept of gratitude has become commercialized to the point of trite. I don’t want to hear another Brene Brown TED Talk on the topic. I realize I’m violating sacred territory in this curmudgeonly diatribe. I, too, have recorded moments ofgratitude in my journal and recognize that it is an essential ingredient inliving joyfully. The expressions should be authentic. I’ve been more than a little skeptical of blogs and articles urging people to “Create an explosion of gratitude! Stop what you are doing right now and think of at least 3 things you are grateful for.”
I guess I’m going to have to dial back my skepticism after I experienced several moments of gratitude this past weekend that indeed elicited a joyful response.
Two of my children and two of my grandchildren far live away - 886 miles for one; 1,170 for the other family (forgive the precision but I drove to both locations recently, so the distance is seared into my brain (or rather my butt after sitting in a car for seven days.) Given the distance and the cost of airline travel, physical visits often are months in between.
But over the weekend I had the opportunity to spend quality time via my cell phone and FaceTime with my daughter Tracy.
My husband Jim, my daughter Tracy and me.
My son, David, my daughter-in-law, my granddaughter Maya, and grandson Ru.
While I talk to them with some regularity, the exchanges are often brief given school and work schedules. My conversations with all four meandered, hopping from subject to subject just as if we were sitting next to each other on the sofa. There were no crises to deal with. I just luxuriated in the extended amount of time each of them seemed willing to spend with me. Likewise, I gave myself permission to spend unhurried time with them. Maya and I spent an hour playing with FaceTime Memojis, trying on various animal and character guises as we chatted about swimming lessons and a cousin’s birthday celebration.
My son David was curious about my trip to northern Michigan, and I was flattered by his interest and the time he took out of his busy day to hear about our journey. My daughter and I caught up on family gossip and episodes of our favorite PBS show, Seaside Hotel. Ru gave me a tour of his jujitsu toy collection and tried mightily to instruct me on the nuances of Mario Soccer on his Nintendo Switch. Nothing major. Just time spent in the virtual presence of people I adore. Several hours into my Saturday, I paused to recognize my contentment. Even though my family lives away, we still managed to be truly present with each other. It felt a little bit miraculous given the distance. And yes, I was grateful.
Time is our God, and we are its flock of submissive followers. Our family members gave ourselves permission to suspend time for a bit and be present for one another. Living in the moment may truly be the meaning of life, and doing so is worthy of our gratitude. It’s a quiet recognition, though, different from creating “explosions of gratitude” which feels trite to me.
What do you think? I would love it ifyou would consider sharing your views on the topic of gratitude. I’ll post yourcomments on a future blog. Oh, and by the way, I truly am grateful to all of you who take the time to read my posts and share your thoughts.