Tired of being told you need to be grateful?
So was I.
When I was given an assignment on gratitude for one of my college classes, it seemed too easy. This was how I already lived my life, this would be “easy, peasy, lemon-squeezy”, as my daughter’s kindergarten teacher would always say. To write the paper we had to do a practice of gratitude, writing down five things we were grateful for each evening. I lived this way, breathed this way, so this would be no big deal.
It was a pretty crummy month. I felt as if I would never get math. Never, ever. I was feeling a huge crunch on my time. I didn’t have time for the new tasks that had come into my life since returning to school and somehow I didn’t have enough time to do the old tasks either. I had run out of oomph and wasn’t able to accomplish anything that everyone wanted me to do, let alone what I wanted to do. Then it got so bad in my head, that not only did I forget that I used to practice gratitude, I forgot I had an assignment to actually practice it. And without even realizing it had happened, the idea of “easy, peasy, lemon-squeezy” had turned sour. The nights I did remember the assignment, my attitude was literally, “Who cares? What is there to be grateful about anyway?” Because writing down what I “should” be grateful for was just adding one more thing to my already long list of things to do.
I was actually planning on closing another day without gratitude when I was on my way to listen to a group of speakers (just one more assignment to add to the list), and I happened to witness the sunset.
It was breathtaking and peaceful.
“Okay,” I thought, “maybe that’s something to be grateful for.”
That thought was the beginning.
As I made my way into the auditorium, I was astounded by the beauty and quality of this concert hall hidden on the campus of my new school.
Another thought, “Hmmm, I guess it’s kind of cool that I get to come to this school.” The shift continued. The speakers each got up and spoke, sharing vulnerability, laughter, wise words, and thought provoking ideas. The ideas ranged from Pluto being left out, to why we should want to talk about rape on campus, to integrating computers into our brains so we could find the nearest coffee shop. Another shifting thought passed through my mind, “I can’t believe that these people are at my fingertips. I’m so glad I got to be here tonight.” The last speaker got up. I was tired and I hoped it wouldn’t take long.
The speaker stepped on stage wearing a ballroom gown and the title of her speech included “ballroom dancing”. She began talking about learning something new, then she used the words “spoken word poetry”, and I knew I was in the right place at the right time.
Her words rocked my soul. She couldn’t seriously be talking about being abused as a three year old standing on stage in a ballroom gown, could she? Tears were rolling down my face as I listened to her courage and bravery, and what was this other thing I was feeling? Oh, I know that feeling. I have experienced this feeling before, this raw feeling of gratitude at its core; Gratitude for life, for love, for fun, gratitude for beauty and grace, gratitude just because I can. The shift had happened.
I realized in that moment, that I was grateful someone was standing up courageously and sharing her survival story. Grateful that she was brave enough to be vulnerable, to prove vulnerability is one of our strongest assets. I was grateful that she was setting an example for me to share my own survivor story. I was grateful that her story finished not just with survival, but with thriving enthusiasm, grit and strength, as she demonstrated her ballroom dancing on stage, full of grace.
But the tears wouldn’t stop, not for the rest of the night. I had to pull over on my way home; the tears were coming so strong and so powerful. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first. Why was I so sad about something that had happened to me so long ago, something that I had “cured” with counseling? It was that moment, when I realized how gratitude had shown up for me very powerfully that evening.
My gratitude list was endless.
I was grateful that I am alive, that I had chosen on multiple occasions not to take my life, that I have protected my own daughter from experiencing abuse, that I live my life from love and acceptance rather than judgment and criticism. That I’m teaching her to do the same thing and her ripple effect will be amazing. I am grateful that I have the ability to be grateful.
I am grateful that I have been graced with intelligence and an environment that has allowed me to battle the negative belief system I created as a five year old. I am grateful that my five year old self didn’t give up, that she found a place to survive and created strategies to protect her(our) soul, even though her (our) body was being abused. I allowed the tears to stream, finding gratitude in the sadness, having never been able to feel the sadness before, finding gratitude in the anger rolling off of me, having never been able to feel that before this night, finding gratitude in forgiveness of myself, of the perpetrator, of the world and universe that allows this to happen to little girls, finding gratitude in knowing that the forgiveness and even the gratitude aren’t just words, that it is a practice, a daily habit, a reality that gets created by doing, not by talking, and by repeating it every day, every moment.
There is something rather healing about a good cry. The next morning, I woke up to another beautiful sunrise, grateful to be alive, knowing that I have what I term a “great-full” life. A term that when chosen, can rescue you from those pockets of misery. This is what I know, but forget, and I’m grateful to this assignment for bringing it back to center, reminding me that I can choose my great and full life.
Heather can be found doing homework, running her business, playing with her delightful daughter or eating delicious meals prepared by her handsome husband and in her spare time, she loves to write.
