“Grateful” pencil drawing by Robyn Schmidt, created especially for “Thank you anyway”.
By Christina Ryan-Stoltz
There is a spot on my couch where, for a few minutes in the morning, the sunlight streams in through an eastern window and dances on my face. My neighbor’s house and a grand old white pine obscure the view the rest of the morning, so I close my eyes to savor this ephemeral moment, feeling the warmth and the hope of a sunny day, and then I give thanks before the day takes me wherever it is headed.
Most days I spend at least one of my golden hours walking. I crave the time outside throughout the seasons. My mind and my heart need the spaciousness. I take in the changes in foliage, the growth from spotted fawn to sturdy yearling of the deer. I see the crows sit in the same high branch day after day, looking out over the expanse of sky near the meadow, hunting. More often than not, I will find myself at the shoreline of the big lake. I find my sit spot, look out over the water and feel the anchoring, grounding power and majesty, the vastness. I breathe clean, clear, deep breaths, filling my belly with gratitude and tenderness for this enormous gift.
Thank you in mind
As I step into my studio to begin my workday, I set down flowers or baked goods or apples I have brought to share. I prepare my workspace, everything in its place, turn the music on and take one last look in the soft, amber lamplight before I fetch my first client from the waiting room. I listen for what is said and watch for what isn’t. I feel for tension and for release. I drop into my own breath when theirs catches. We settle into a rhythm where a body can receive all that a massage offers ⸺ giver and receiver. With my left hand firmly on my client, I bring my right to my heart. I cannot bow in gratitude at that moment, but I feel it so deeply I must acknowledge it with a gesture.
Later, in my kitchen, I begin to slice vegetables. My countertop and refrigerator overfloweth. I think of my farmer, who lives just up the road from the house I was raised in, where my folks still live. I am certain this food resonates and communicates directly with my body, like trees in a forest do, as though we are kin. Nourishing and healing food grown for my love and me get me feeling downright weepy with gratitude. We bow our heads before we eat, and I say thank you for the farmers, for the soil and the toil and the intention.
Studies of gratitude
There is a lot of science these days on the power of gratitude. The healing power, the life-changing power, the mindset-shifting power. Studies from Harvard, the National Institutes of Health, the Positive Psychology Movement and many more, all conducting research on anything from the “neural correlates of gratitude” to the “role of gratitude in spiritual well-being in heart failure” to the “influence of gratitude on sleep and cognitive function.” Countless books have been written by clergy, therapists, doctors and life coaches about how having a gratitude practice will change/heal/improve your life/health/relationships/finances/career options/influence.
The Berkeley School of Medicine suggests, in a 2018 study, that research links a variety of factors ⸺ including personality, cognition & gender ⸺ to our likelihood of experiencing gratitude. Cultivating gratitude may be difficult when life presents us with challenges, such as death, poverty, mental illness, chronic illness, political unrest, or when we experience empathy for others suffering injustices, violence or natural catastrophes. But the research and my own gratitude rituals suggest otherwise. It is precisely WHEN we experience challenges that feeling genuine gratitude helps us balance the scales.
Pain expands joy
If you have experienced great pain or loss then you know what a tremendous gift it is to feel joy again after much time passes, and you’ve begun to wonder if you will ever feel joy, pleasure, happiness or humor again. Sorrow, it turns out, can actually plant seeds of joy. In my own experience after deep loss, I found that my joy, my propensity for joy, seemed larger than before loss. My bandwidth literally expanded beyond any previously known boundaries. I have spoken with many, many loss survivors about this phenomenon and though it is not across the board, it is definitely a shared experience. I have come to think of it as a pendulum theory; when a pendulum swings far in one direction (sorrow, grief, despair), it must counter swing in the opposite direction (joy, laughter, delight). It’s just physics.
To have a range of emotions available again, after the diminished capacity inherent in grief or pain, elicits a natural gratitude response. Innate. I did not have to sit down and write a list of things I should feel grateful for. It became an appropriate response to the wonder of what remains beautiful in my life despite loss, despite grief, despite the inability to control or change the outcome. It arrived without effort one day, like a visitor at my door. I chose to invite it in, and I have to keep choosing it, but it comes to me day after day with a myriad of things to be grateful for. Even on the harder days.
Being thankful anyway
As the holiday season ramps up, some of us may feel uneasy, even triggered by the ghosts of Christmas past. The empty chair at the Thanksgiving table may feel unbearable. We may feel forlorn about the future, the new year coming. It is not all good tidings for all, and the messages of peace on earth or counting your blessings may seem glib coming from those with great privilege or without your perspective. The reality is, there are a lot of us out there feeling “all the feels.”
And yet, and yet, I encourage you to look for the pockets of peace, the brevity of sunlight on your face, the calm within the storm, and give thanks anyway.
A Little Inspiration for Growing Your Gratitude
By Christina Ryan-Stoltz
- Keep a gratitude journal. Be specific about what you feel grateful for. Make time for it every day, first thing in the morning, last thing at night or on your lunch break. Just do it.
- Try a gratitude jar. Write something gratitude inducing on a piece of paper and place in a jar. When it fills or on a birthday, new year, or special occasion, look at all of those tiny pieces of paper and take in all the ways gratitude found its way to you in a year, or a month or a week. You could also get your family or friends “in” on it and then share with them.
- Once a month write a letter of gratitude to someone who has helped you, made an impact on your life or simply made you feel grateful. Maybe it is someone you never properly thanked, maybe it is someone you have never even met, (an author of a book that changed your life, a customer service rep who was kind and helpful on the phone).
- Commit “Random Acts of Kindness and Senseless Acts of Beauty.” We can cultivate more gratitude when we help others. Volunteer, become a mentor, give others a reason to be grateful.
- Steer clear of negativity in media: news, movies, etc. And people.
- Cultivate a Mindfulness Practice where you focus on all the goodness conspiring in your life. This may be as simple as placing your hand to your heart, feeling the power of your heartbeat, your life force, and saying THANK YOU.
- Cover your walls with sticky notes of gratitude! This could be things you are grateful for or quotes about gratitude – things that make you happy and peaceful.
- Be grateful for your teachers – pain, grief, loss, despair as much as love, kindness, joy, laughter.
- Forgive. Others and yourself.
Christina Ryan-Stoltz has been a writer since fifth grade. She is also an artist, herbalist, resilience coach, founder of SHESkool.com and ordained minister. She lives near the lakeshore and spends most of her time dreaming.
Read more by Christina Ryan-Stoltz HERE.
