This little mound of paper is one of my birthday presents to myself. It represents just over a year of gratitude, a counting of many of the blessings in my life over the last twelve months or so.
I'm not perfect so I cannot claim to have been totally diligent in my practice. Some slips testify to a week without noticing – but they do testify – they do suggest that I did then think back over that week and noticed the good things that had happened, the small things I had achieved.
Because that's what these slips of paper are. I try to end each day (emphasis on 'try') by being thankful for the day and what it has brought. I try to end each day noticing one small thing that I have achieved. Mindfulness is a much-used phrase these days, but in essence it means nothing more than noticing. Taking note. Pausing…to look, to hear, to taste, to touch, to smell,…to feel.
It's a simple thing to sit down for five minutes at the end of the day and notice what a good day it has been – because if you have got to the end of it, then it has been a good day. If you can be grateful for nothing else on the hardest of days, you can be grateful for whatever it was that helped you get to the end of it: support, your own strength, luck.
I first came across the idea of a gratitude journal in the midst of a depression over a decade ago, and I found it helped. So in the middle of a turbulent year, it seemed time to go back to it. Part of my current life-stage is about simplifying things and so I didn't want the challenge, or if I'm honest the effort, involved in listing all of the things I'm grateful for every day. Choosing to list only one or two things a day allowed me to differentiate the days – to look at what about that particular day had made me smile, or helped me cope, or given me reason to celebrate.
I decided to gather these things together in a gratitude box, with the specific intention of opening it at the end of my year. Conscious that my practice slips occasionally – one of slips actually reads I'm grateful that things have come together so well, that I've forgotten to note them down – I was surprised at how many times I did remember.
Reading them back at the end of the year, I find they do more than remind me how lucky I am. As I see the same things, the same names, time and again, they show me what and who is really important to me. Things that matter to me are friends, home, freedom, curiosity, watching light dancing on water, reflections, and reflection. I treasure learning and all of the opportunities to do so. I love flowers and candles…and people doing what they said they would.
Many of the slips are dated and they show me the ups and downs of my year, a reminder that life is never all sunshine and roses, but that rain and fallen leaves can also be beautiful. There were times when I was grateful for "a positive conversation with…" a bright spot in a failing relationship. A reminder too, that too much sunshine or too much rain can turn a blessing into a torment, so there have been times to be thankful for endings, as well as beginnings.
Being grateful is not the same as being happy. We can be grateful through the pain. One chunk of paper unwrapped to reveal three pages of old fashioned blessing counting. Page one admitted that I felt "heart-wrenched sad"…but as my list of goodies grew, I found that some of the things that made me sad were tied up in memories that I treasure. I was grateful for having had those things, no matter how I felt in the moment. I stopped listing at 101 and wrote. Despite it all, life is still good. I still don't feel great, but definitely better than I did 101 blessings ago.
However, life isn't only about noticing what's around us. Life is to be lived, unless we really want to dream it away. We have to act; we have to engage. When hard times hit, we may want to hide away; our motivation drains, and our self-esteem goes with it. The antidote is to act: to do something, however small. Most of us do this instinctively, but we don't notice, we don't give ourselves the credit. This is what can sap self-esteem: not the fact that we don't take action but (again) that we fail to notice when we do. This is why as well my thanks I include the notes of what I have done. Achievements range from the tiny – making a phone-call, writing a poetcard – to the significant – having a text book published, moving house. They range from passing planned milestones to simply edging a tiny bit outside my comfort zone.
Finishing a project is an easy and natural thing to celebrate, but I believe we should also celebrate making a start. We should notice mid-way through that this connection was made, this step was taken – because without each and every one of the steps the project will not be completed.
The two aspects are not disconnected. I find I have been grateful for the people who enabled me to take action, or better action. I commended one of my cheer-leaders for speaking sense to my stupidity. And who says we cannot be grateful for our own efforts, for having found what it took to do that one small thing, or that big one.
So I'm thinking that as I start my new box, one of the things I will be grateful for is this beautiful practice of being grateful and taking action and taking note.
