A Glorious Mess

 Embrace the glorious mess that you are.   Elizabeth Gilbert

I love learning from those who have allowed themselves to color outside the lines. For some, this is an innate way of thinking. I always took pride in how well I colored within the lines, and I brought that thinking into my whole adult world. Look how pretty! See how well I follow the rules! 

I’m learning to find my freedom in the freeform—to ask more “what-if” questions than my former, scared self could contemplate. Exactly because the structure is lost, the result can seem messy, especially for one who appreciates ‘order’. But the outcomes are mine! Not something preordained, like a paint-by-number picture, but something multi-dimensional, it’s beauty in it’s very freedom.

I can be a real mess. Growth is messy. Life is messy. But I have learned the truth of the saying “this too shall pass”. There is no such thing as permanence, and when I try to believe otherwise, I can be very messily reminded of that fact.

I live my life on an ever-flowing stream, sometimes calm and peaceful, but mostly not. There are rapids and waterfalls, boulders and dams. There are shores for rest, and there are rides through canyons, where the only option is to go with the flow. It’s a massive adventure with some pretty good scenery in places, and occasionally with the ugliness of raw sewage to clean up and move through. But move through it we do!

Today I will relax into the ride with thanks to the RiverMaker. I will enjoy the glorious mess of who I am!

Permission to Feel

 The best way out is always through.   Robert Frost

One of the ways I shame myself is by believing the ‘should’s: I should feel this way, I shouldn’t still feel that way, I should get a grip, I shouldn’t feel my feelings.

There are no shortcuts to getting through a tough time. Grief has many faces, no matter how I think it ‘should’ look, or how I think I ‘should not’ react. I have self-awareness, but that doesn’t always take the burden off of my “pain body”, as Eckhart Tolle calls it.

Finding the gratitude in little things is an enormously important task, when those times of heaviness threaten my inner serenity.

Today, I am grateful for those simple things which allow me to feel my feelings. I’m grateful for people who love me, for a working vacuum cleaner, for a clean sink, for great books and silly videos. For enough quarters to do my laundry, for the way fresh sheets feel when I get into bed, for taking responsibility for my own happiness.

I’m grateful for the power of The Power, showing me in so many ways that all is well, all is well.

Gratitude in the Key of G

 When I got up this morning, I found myself obsessing again over things I can’t change. It’s a sad song in a minor key, becoming an annoying ear worm. I had to ask myself what, exactly, was the reason I keep revisiting hurt. What is it here to teach me about myself? What is the lesson which will allow my growth?

I meditated for a bit, receiving some insights I can use about old ways of meeting life, and what I have within my power to change. It is essential to me to learn to become the human being I’m here to be, rather than point and blame and weasel out of class. A slightly passing grade isn’t the point—I want to dig deeper, increase my inner knowledge, and find the similarities in how we all face both challenges and victories.

I love the vocal artist and Unity minister Kathy Zavada. She composes her own songs, singing with a soothingly lovely voice the words of wisdom which come from her soul. I listened to one of her CDs, a collection of simple yet deeply meaningful chants, effectively easing the songs of self-pity I kept in a loop. My choice. My action. My strength. And her songs have become my songs—my songs of hope, and love, and perspective, and ease.

It’s all about Gratitude, in the key of G.

When the Sun Returns…

 …And the sun always returns.

I remember my first plane ride—how astoundingly beautiful the clouds were from above! Even on the stormiest of days, the sun shines it’s pure light above the fray. And when the clouds part, and the sky is once again clear enough to let the rays of light touch the earth, what sweet relief!

I can be grateful for the storms as well as for the sunshine. It is the yin/yang of life, the perfect balance of clearing out the old to make way for the new; of stirring up the soil and refreshing it with rain in preparation for the seeds of tomorrow to find their roots.

I feel the sunlight again, and it is as nurturing as a mother’s warm embrace. It is gentle and reassuring, allowing me to know, deep down, that all is well. There will come new storms, and I will be well. In this day, I am well. 

 For storms, Thank You. For clarity in this moment, Thank You. For the sun’s eternal return, Thank You.

Third Act

I am in my third act of life. 

This is what I found on Wikipedia when I googled aspects of a three act play: The third act features the resolution of the story and its subplots. The climax is the scene or sequence in which the main tensions of the story are brought to their most intense point and the dramatic question answered, leaving the protagonist and other characters with a new sense of who they really are.

All that I have experienced in my first two acts of life have led me to this point of intensity, this climax of the Big Questions: Who am I really? What is my value? What, if anything, is missing?

I am able to have gratitude for the intensity of necessary change, not because it is fun or easy, but because I know that I am strong. I have the strength gained from learning from mistakes, acknowledging my inherent worth, and taking the next step in faith.

I am grateful that I am enough. That I have this remarkable gift of life in which to experience the illusion of separation from my Source. That I receive and recognize the gifts of love from my Creator. That I am given a platform in which to explore all aspects of gratitude for blessings seen and those not yet discovered.

I am grateful for those other children of the One who help me on my journey, whether by choice or by circumstance. 

I am especially grateful for the resolution which must, inevitably, follow the climax in the third act.

Painful Insights

 Some lessons are like the “jagged little pill” Alanis Morisette wrote about. They hurt going down, but eventually, the stomach acids dissolve them. Once that occurs, they can work for my body, doing what they were designed to do. Healing is imminent.

I misjudged a situation, based solely on wishful thinking. The awakening was rude, but terribly overdue. Reality will always show itself, no matter how many layers of pretty gift-wrap I try to hide it in. But the gift itself is that reality. I can function when I know and accept ‘life on life’s terms’. I have a program to keep me centered in Spirit. I have friends with whom I can explore my shortcomings in order to release them. I have a spiritual connection in which I can be comforted.

Sometimes, healing is just hard. Sometimes, those insights are embarrassing. Sometimes, I just need to shed some tears while I shed the past. It’s growth, therefore ultimately a good thing.

The pain will subside. The gratitude for insights gained will remain.

Breathing In, Breathing Out

Breathing in, I feel my chest rise. Breathing out, I feel my chest fall.

Breathing in, I accept what is. Breathing out, I accept what is. 

Breathing in, I inhale peace. Breathing out, I exhale peace.

Breathing in, I know I am whole. Breathing out, I know I am whole.

Breathing in, I experience my feelings. Breathing out, I experience my feelings.

Breathing in, I give thanks. Breathing out, I give thanks.

Breathing in, I am in this moment. Breathing out, I am in this moment.

Breathing in, I am thankful. Breathing out, I am thankful.

Breathing in, I know all is well. Breathing out, I know all is well.

Breathing in, I know I am loved. Breathing out, I know I am loved.

Blessed be.

The Hard Things

 It’s easy to project happiness into the future: I’ll be happy when_________, Life will be great after_______, When I get__________ I’ll be fulfilled. Is it even possible to find true happiness in THIS MOMENT? Contentment with what IS? Serenity in the midst of messiness? 

That’s a hard conundrum. I want peace, and I want it NOW, even as I face harboring resentments, while I have to make a hard decision, or am in the middle of a maelstrom. How on earth do I find a modicum of gratitude when life can be so darn messy?

This is a perfect moment for me to take a deep breath, ground myself, and whisper “Help” to my Higher Power, take a moment of quiet, and listen. I say “Thank You”, and wait for insights. Or, on occasion, I still find my emotions muddled, my ears blocked, and my vision darkened. I get to choose which reaction I’ll attach my attention to. One leads to a serenity which keeps me going, and the other sends me back to bed in avoidance. 

As I practice active gratitude, I find that more and more often, I can navigate the storm and emerge stronger. If I allow myself to churn, I become a mess of resentment and self-pity. I don’t want to spend time with that version of myself. 

The hard times give me an invitation to look more deeply at my triggers, or ‘character defects’, and do some digging. What do I need to know about myself? What action do I need to take? What, IN THIS MOMENT, can I be grateful for? Find it, identify it, and deeply feel it.

If Only vs What If

 What if nothing is a mistake? What if, instead of beating myself up when my plans don’t pan out, I were to accept whatever happens as a gift? That gift may not have been something on my wish list (or I simply can’t make the connection yet), but how can it serve my highest good? How can it, in turn, serve the highest good of others?

I’m not in charge of the form in which my intentions may manifest. How do I want to feel? How open do I want to be? I have preferences and ideas of what those preferences look like, but in the end, how do I want to experience life? 

I want to be grateful for all of it, so I make a practice of expressing gratitude for all of it. When I’m feeling a disconnect, it’s time to ground myself, get quiet, and listen to the Inner Voice—my Higher Power in communion with me. When I’m confused, or can’t hear, or can make no sense of what I seem to be hearing, is it enough for me to let it be? I’d like for my answer to be “Yes”. Let go and simply watch what happens. Enjoy the peace of mind that results from losing attachment to the how and what so that I can see the Holiness in the suchness of what arises.

What if I turn my attention away from the immaturity of if only… to the realm of anticipatory welcome of all that I experience as what if this is my current gift of possibility?

May I always remember to say “Thank You” for it all.

Transparency

 Once upon a time, I supervised a large group of rather unmotivated people. I saw one of the managers I worked for as a solid, confident, able person. Then one day, in a conference with upper management, I watched with surprise as he tried, unsuccessfully, to dance around something for which he was responsible. He went from a strong leader to a slithering reptile before my eyes.

I am reminded of the sign President Truman had on his desk: The Buck Stops Here. He would hold himself accountable, and not try to evade that responsibility by rolling the dung to some other beetle’s dung heap. That’s leadership, I believe. Own it, deal with it, and be done with it.

The people within the rooms of AA are like that. They’ve learned about the absolute necessity to own their  dung—to take responsibility for what’s theirs, to deal with it promptly, then to let it be. This surprises those who have no program like we have—they’re amazed to encounter someone who owns and deals with their stuff rather than dancing around trying to evade personal responsibility: “What dung? I had nothing to do with any dung! Smell me—I’m clean as a rose!”

I love being among those who aren’t afraid of taking personal accountability, or who acknowledge that fear but do the right thing anyway. I appreciate knowing that the people I choose to associate with have respect for themselves and for others, and show it in their daily lives. They are examples to me of what it means to be authentic.

For these living examples of the way I want to live my life, I am grateful. 

Specialness to Spaciousness

 I grew up trying to find that door which would take me to ‘specialness’. The ones with welcome mats were marked “Art”, “Writing”, and “Performing”. The one some tried to direct me towards was “Sports”; I was a tall girl, so basketball would be so perfect! Girl, I tripped over my own legs when trying for that Blue Ribbon on Field Day. I couldn't walk to school without at least once weekly kicking my ankles bloody. No, that kind of Special was not for me.

It was that need which I brought with me to the rooms of AA—I apparently couldn’t drink in a socially acceptable way, but I didn’t fit my personal description of what an alcoholic looked like. I was too special for that. Too special to admit truly to myself that I was powerless over alcohol. I, like every other unique person in the rooms, was an exception to the bits I didn’t like.

Hearing my story over and over again, and reading all about myself in the literature, is what broke through the wall that ego built. Gratitude for it all helps me to clear away the detritus of that wall. My ego is a sneaky little bugger, and tries to rebuild, so I have to do the work of clearing it’s materials away. This happens every time I express thanks for what is.

With the wall down, I get to enjoy the spaciousness of possibility, the power of acceptance coupled with right action, the beauty of This Moment. That is truly special.

For the Sake of Gratitude

 Today I celebrate good decisions. I offered to take on a position of service to my home group. I am meeting up with fellow singers with big hearts to rehearse our songs, and to sing for ourselves and our loved ones. I will visit with my ‘wasband’ for a bit. I share my daily (okay, almost daily) gratitude list with a friend. I am looking at the positive side of things, and am thoroughly enjoying my new car.

I have family to love. I have a lovely apartment in a friendly community, for a price I can afford. We socialize often. My joy is real and can only be dimmed when I allow it to be dimmed. I have way more than I need, and much of what I want. Life is pretty darn good. 

When I reflect on these things, I feel that rush of dopamine, that ‘cellular gratitude’ I wrote about earlier.  It washes through me, calming any fears and soothing my soul. It’s sweet, in just the best way. I am what I am, it is what it is, and all is well.

I’m spending the day doing things I love. I might bake something! I might have popcorn with lots of butter! I may even splurge and have eggs! 

Gratitude, for it’s own sake, gives me inner peace—no strings attached.

Finding Gratitude in Spite of Myself

 I made a ridiculous decision yesterday, one which will cost me a lot of money. I went to a car dealership alone, just to test-drive a couple of cars. I had my mental check-list of needs, wants, and limits, but they all flew out the window with some very smooth salesmanship (and more than a little too much trust on my part).

 I couldn’t hear my Guides in that situation. I was asking, but I wasn’t hearing—or more likely, wasn’t listening. Not for lack of trying, though. I just needed to step away for a moment and regroup, meditate, listen, and then act. But no—I let myself be seduced by BIGGER! BRIGHTER! NEWER! 

It’s a done deal. I would have had to pay $250 for the privilege of changing my mind, so I passed. How is it that I can ignore red flags, or paint them bright green? I’ve written about how I used to ask that what I wanted be God’s will. I thought I had learned that lesson. I was convinced that I had grown through that shortcoming, but hello! There it was again.

Don’t get me wrong—it’s a very decent car which ticked some of the boxes for me, and it will hopefully last long enough to be my last car. That’s my aim. The goal now is to accept my willingness to be fooled out of my own innate good sense, and to see my failings for the blessings they are. I can beat myself up, or I can allow the vehicle to do it’s job and be thankful every time I drive it.

There are lessons everywhere, every day. Some are innocent, some are sweet, and some leave a few welts. I am thankful that it is within my means to pay my new monthly bill, and that I am in a very safe vehicle. I am grateful knowing that I need not judge myself for being human, and that beyond my errors, all is still and forever well. For that, I can find peace and give thanks.

The Sunlight of the Spirit Casts No Shadows

I was going to lead with this quote from today’s Insight Timer:  Keep your face always toward the sunshine, and shadows will fall behind you  Walt Whitman  but I don’t think I agree with what it says. Those areas of my life which fall under the category of “shadow” call out, through step work, to be looked at and acknowledged. In so doing, I learn to recognize when and why I am out of alignment. When I ask my Higher Power to help me, I am inviting the Light into that which I try to keep hidden. Shadow cannot exist in Light.

When I ‘keep my face always toward the sunshine’, I am inviting that Light into all areas of my life, positive and otherwise. Prior to Step 4, I can feel like I’m standing on an anthill, wondering why I keep being bitten. I learn to step off of the anthill, rather than cursing the ants for being ants. The Light shows me where I am ‘standing on anthills’ so that I can take whatever action is required.

I have within me the Power to choose to take action, and I have the responsibility to myself to do just that once I’ve identified those shadow issues. The spectrum of colors within the Sunlight finds their matches in the shadows, and cancels them. I have to get my big ole ego out of the way in order to facilitate the ‘next right action’, and turn my attention always to the Light.

Such a gift! I’m grateful for the attention to detail which working the Steps of AA demands of me, allowing me to live my life in the Sunlight of the Spirit.

The Micro and the Macro

 Gratitude can be felt in all things, large and small. The tiny pieces of life’s glitter show themselves when the light is right, delighting for just a moment. 

Western Australia celebrates it’s wildflowers in early springtime. I was fortunate enough to be traveling there at the time with a group of actors, in our own van and in our own timing. We could stop to look, explore, and enjoy all the obvious, as well as the hidden, wildflowers. Such diversity! So many colors (or ‘colours’), shapes, and sizes! The real treat was when, out walking among all the flora, one of us would come across something tiny and fabulous. It was a wonderland of new discoveries, and it remains a vivid memory for me, even though this happened in the early 70’s.

The beginnings of a double rainbow a day or so ago, in a brief respite of sunshine through the rainclouds, was a large reminder for me to recognize as a gift - a reminder that all things pass.

I think seeing something as a gift is what can best be defined as noticing something which elicits a sense of gratitude - that this thing, this feeling, this moment, this person, this lesson, even this disappointment or challenge, exists for me to recognize for the gift it brings me.

In this moment, I am at peace. Small and undefinable perhaps, but for that, I give thanks.

Imagine, if You Will

 For every multiple of “I can’t even”, there is a loud, enthusiastic “I can!” The latter is made up of the builders of positive change, soul-satisfying art, personal growth; they are the co-creators of a better world.

Imagination is the engine of this co-creative force. It is the gift of wondering, dreaming, envisioning, and taking action. While this process can go into the shadowlands, I’m aware of and grateful for those fruits of positivity: feats of engineering, the amazing sets of Broadway musicals, the writing of heartfelt stories, ways out of painful situations, and what to make for dinner with what’s available. Imagination is the fuel of the grand as well as the minute.

Imagination can lead me into new areas of interest, inviting me to learn more. Imagination is the core of compassion as I wonder what it might be like to walk in another soul’s shoes. Imagination is the key to creativity and personal growth. 

As I enter this day, replete with possibilities, may my imagination take hold and lead me to new wonders! The very thought fills me with gratitude.

Body and Mind

 I awoke this morning from a vivid, intense dream. In it, I was aware of losing my mind—I couldn't get my bearings, I couldn’t remember how to use my phone to call for help, I sat in the car of strangers who were too surprised to do anything but take me with them, and I got out with one of them as she volunteered in a home for the memory-impaired. Convenient, in a way, but so disturbing.

The dream was capitalizing on the common fear of dementia. I’m aging—my body knows it and my subconscious mind fears it. Every time I forget an appointment, despite writing it down and maybe even having it in my phone calendar, I panic a little more. I go quickly from “what if” to “what will I do?”

Oddly, I can have gratitude for the depth of feeling in my dream, because it offers me a glimpse inside the minds of those who are losing theirs. This allows me to feel compassion for them in their difficult journey. I may experience it from that side, as well, and I offer compassion to my scared self. I still have this moment of awareness in which to feel gratitude in body and mind. I have this day in which I can delight in the excitement of little kids getting ready to watch the musical “Frozen” as I perform my volunteer duties. I can still volunteer, and be of service in a myriad of ways. If the day comes when I receive the loving service of those who assist the memory-impaired, I hope I’m practiced enough in experiencing the peace of deep gratitude to accept whatever is. 

Gratitudinal Healing

 Good Morning! That’s how I greet each new day as I acknowledge the Presence of the All. Some days, like yesterday, it’s half-hearted and forced, but I do it anyway. It reminds me that I am never alone, I am never without support and love.

Felt gratitude is gratitude made living - like Emily Dickenson’s “Hope is the thing with feathers — That perches in the soul — And sings the tune without the words — And never stops — at all — …” 

The knowledge that my gratitude could carry me through a day which felt heavy and plodding kept me moving forward, and proved true. Today, another gray, blustery day, would be an invitation to depression, if not for the revived sense of thankfulness for this moment. All is well, all is well. 

As I spoke to my Higher Power prior to writing this, I realized that my hands were over my heart center, my 4th chakra, as I was saying ‘thank you’ for specifics: thank you for the practice of honesty and for helping me open up, thank you for the practice of communing with You in both speaking and listening, thank you for this very moment. I felt the surge of peace in my being—the gift of serenity which flows from gratitude.

Sunshine or rain, blue sky or gray, I always have things for which I can be truly, deeply grateful. It’s up to me to notice them.

When Gratitude is Hard to Find

 Today I’m experiencing a weird dichotomy: after all the gray, sunless days, the sun is shining brightly. After several weeks without a working vehicle, I got my car back yesterday. I ought to be high on life right now, floating on air, deliciously grateful. Instead, I’m a wreak. What gives?

I’m thinking that after all that anticipation, reality is still just reality, and today is just a day among days. There must have been some hidden expectation in there, subtly underscoring the idea of “things will be better when…”

It turns out that the gratitude I express is dependent upon my being open and willing to see the good, to feel the wonder, to accept whatever is unchangeable, and to say thanks for Every Little Thing. 

I am grateful to be aware of how much power there is in accepting each moment as it appears. I am grateful that I have the Serenity Prayer as a working mantra. I have gratitude for this day, with all it’s opportunities. I give thanks for my home and my homies, for food in the fridge, and for gas in the tank of the car I can once again get around in!

The Miracle of Gratitude

 A miracle is a shift in perception from fear to love   Marianne Williamson

Gratitude puts me into a mode of receptivity. That is a shift in my own perspective, which used to center around resentment—resentment for what others had, what I lacked, what I felt I deserved, how I perceived I was perceived, my ‘victimhood’. That perspective was centered on ME, and the view was dismal.

Changing my attitude from “I want” to “All is well” has been and continues to be a massive shift in my consciousness. It is the fruit of Step 12: “Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics [others], and to practice these principles in all our affairs.” If I have truly had a spiritual awakening, my desire to be of service to others becomes stronger than my selfishness. 

What a miraculous shift that is! From resentment to love, from feeling denied to giving freely, from the sense of loneliness to the abundance of Presence. I take measures to maintain that awareness by practicing Step 11: “Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.”

I always thought miracles were only for saints. I’ve learned that miracles are meant for me as well.

Red Flag, Green Flag

 I grew up across from a small lake in Denver. Back in the 60’s, it would still freeze over in winter, and neighbors would ice skate on it. I remember that there would always be a flag close to shore which would indicate whether or not the ice was thick enough to safely skate on—green for safe, red for unsafe. We were taught about ice safety, and my friends and I took it to heart, never testing the ice ourselves. It kept us safe, and on red flag days, we’d find other ways to amuse ourselves.

In my last marriage, we spent many vacations in and around Cancun. The sea was a beautiful turquoise, usually quite calm. Officials there also used the red flag/green flag system with the addition of a yellow one for taking caution. I’m not much of a water baby, so I loved the green flag days. Sometimes I’d try out the yellow flag days, which made for more exciting body-surfing, but I trusted that if a red flag was flying, I’d just stay out of the water altogether.

When I put off taking the time to feel grateful for an identifiable thing, whether object or general feeling, specific event or person, I’m skating on thin ice. I’m creating my own red-flag situation through my own failure of being in a state of mind which notices the good. 

There’s always so much for which to express gratitude! The little patches of blue sky I see right now, which are a welcome break between storms, the screen-saver photographs displayed on my tv even while the reception is out, the anticipation of sharing a meal with a friend, the news that my car is not only fixable, but is almost ready for me! 

Before recovery from active alcoholism, even while I was accused of being a “Pollyanna”, I would only see the shadows, never the sunlight. My problems, and some of them were real, were all I felt and all I reacted to. When the book “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff - And It’s All Small Stuff” came out, the title made me mad. How could my sadness, my problems, my situation be considered ‘small’? I wasn’t about to read a book which had to be utter BS. (Full disclosure: I still haven’t read it!)

I was emotionally always skating on that thin ice.

At over ten years of recovery work, I can say truthfully, happily, joyfully, that gratitude expressed is my green flag. It’s safe. It’s free. It’s readily available, and it’s mine to flood my soul with, whenever I choose.

Fair and Balanced?

 We’ve been having severe weather resulting in power outages, fallen trees, flooding, and deaths. Is it wrong for me to then have gratitude for my own safety? No, not at all, as long as I don’t start thinking that I’m on God’s “Special List.”

 I’ve certainly encountered people who thought that way. Those who fervently believed that they received exceptional blessings because they had ‘earned God’s favor’. Is that even possible? Not from my perspective. 

I’m grateful for my safety. I’m grateful that I haven’t lost power, that I can still watch the news, still have an internet connection, and can stay warm and dry. That’s right now—who knows what today will bring?

Those who have not been so fortunate are still the fully sovereign beings they were created to be; right now many are experiencing challenges, and they get to choose how they meet them—with equanimity and grace, with bitter or hopeless resignation, or maybe with anger and exasperation. We all get to choose our responses to life’s varied occurrences.

My gratitude doesn’t negate my responsibility to others. My past experiences with the vagaries of life offer me the opportunity to have and express compassion in whatever way I am able. That would certainly include prayer for the safety and well-being of those more deeply impacted by the storms than I.

Recognizing the grace of this moment, I am grateful.

I Got 99 Problems, but This, Bish, Ain’t One

 In fact, that could be said for each one of ‘em. I could say “I got 99 opportunities, and yes Love—this is one”. What a difference my attitude makes! Gratitude is like that. It doesn’t fool me into thinking that what’s real in any given moment isn’t happening. I don’t have to pretend about a thing. All I ever needed was a change of perspective—“A New Pair of Glasses”, as Chuck C. wrote.

Don’t get me wrong. Sadness happens. Sad things occur, and to greet every sad thing with immediate gratitude would be expecting too much. It would be a foolish denial of reality. I’ve set myself up many times in my life, self-sabotaging my own efforts, and I’ve suffered the inevitable negative outcomes. But sometimes, life has come at me with a fury which caught me completely off-guard. My practiced response was to feel as if I were drowning, rather than to learn to swim. 

A practice of gratitude is, for me, my swimming lesson. Every day, in every situation, I have resolved to find in it—or adjacent to it—something for which my soul can soar. It’s there, even when I need to take the time to feel the sadness. Even if I feel otherwise depleted. Even if the “99 Problems” are trying to make themselves bigger than they actually are.

The ‘I AM’ is my constant companion and coach, urging me to remember to take a breath and keep kicking. For that, I am grateful.

Does Gratitude Equal Happiness?

 I interact frequently with some who have enormous difficulty finding something for which to be grateful. They are pretty much convinced that their lives suck, and that if there is any kind of God at all, that God has all but said “You I don’t care for much”.

They are unhappy people. I know - I was one. I was an eternal victim, and it was too hard to break out of that thinking to see something which may have been a positive. I couldn’t possibly be grateful for anything, because I was too busy being miserable. That misery was a mud pit - there simply were no roses to stop and smell, from my vantage point.

I certainly equated gratitude with happiness. I wasn’t happy, therefore I had nothing to be grateful for. Only those who had reasons to be happy could feel gratitude - they were the lucky ones, or, according to the people I was learning from, they were the special people God had blessed with abundance because of their ‘faithfulness’, whatever that meant.

I used this an excuse for drinking a little, drinking a lot, and ultimately drinking too much. That became an endless loop of unworthiness, unhappiness, and anger at everyone, especially myself. Gratitude? No way.

For me, a spiritual awareness came from finally recognizing that I was about as far from living my best life as possible, and eventually finding the humility to admit that I was an alcoholic. I had to come to the rooms, be humbled some more, and start over on myself from the ground up. I recognized my God, my Source, my Creator, and that gave me a measure of peace. I could find gratitude in that, even if I was still extremely unhappy. I began to accept that there was not a system of ranking individuals from the Divine perspective (my view - you get to have your own).

To me, expressing true, real, deep gratitude is what constitutes peace. That peace can be called ‘serenity’. I can feel that all is well, whether or not I’m ‘happy’ in any given moment.

In this moment, I am grateful for my life, my sobriety, the opportunities as well as the challenges. It is in those challenges that I find out how my Creator operates, and for that, I am deeply grateful. See? Gratitude is also a loop.

Unique, Yet the Same

 We are all beautifully unique beings, and we share a common humanity. What a thing! Outer appearances invite separation, but inside, we are alike in our striving, our search for meaning, our inherent need to matter. We cry when physically or emotionally hurt. We love. We have preferences. We have both strengths and weaknesses. We develop coping mechanisms. We are attracted to some people and things, repelled by others. 

In The  Book of Awakening, Mark Nepo describes it like this: “Imagine that each of us is a spoke in an Infinite Wheel, and, though each spoke is essential in keeping the Wheel whole, no two spokes are the same…the common hub where all the spokes join is the one center where all souls meet… In that center, we are one and the same… And that unexpected wholeness that is more than each of us, but common to all—that moment of unity is the atom of God.”

There is no redundancy here! Each one of us is important, and has a place of equality with everyone else. This, for me, has been the central teaching of my 12 Step program. I’m more and more aware of the similarities we all share, rather than focusing on perceived differences. I’m grateful for that awareness, and try to see it more and more often. The practice is especially vivid when I am only aware of how much I don’t care for another person. I’m am humbled and often gifted by learning to see how we’re alike.

I’m grateful today for seeing myself in others, and others in myself.

It’s the Little Things

 I was just looking out onto the hummingbird feeder outside my door, where I saw a hummer sitting on the hook holding the container of nectar. He was just happily (I assume) resting and looking around. He reminded me of an ask I made to my Higher Power several years ago - one of those “prove it” requests. 

I was reading a small book on knowing your Source more directly, and the assignment was to ask for something specific. “Okay,” I thought - “l’d like a hummingbird feather”. Soon after that, while turning on the outside spigot, I found it: a tail feather, about 2cm long. “Not bad,” I said, but not being contented with that, I whined that I had wanted one of the iridescent feathers. The tail feather, while very cute, was dull. 

I thought at the time that it was a pretty cool display, and that I learned that I needed to be even more specific than I had been. After a few weeks, I went to brush a floating spider’s web off the screen door, when I noticed a shiny glint. It was a teeny tiny hummingbird neck feather! It had the iridescent color I had wanted!

My little friend is still enjoying his odd perch. He flies away, then comes back to the hook. If he were to fly downward about 7”, he’d be able to perch where he could also drink, but I think he knows that. These are territorial little creatures, so he’s probably just guarding his treasure.

I have my feather treasures carefully guarded in a “God Box”. They are there to remind me that the Power and Love of the All cares about the littlest details of my journey, and that I can ask for anything. Anything. 

My job is to open my eyes to the answers. I’m grateful for that.

The Calm Within

 Today is a stormy day. By tonight, there will be strong winds and heavy rains, which will probably disrupt power for many. Should I be grateful for that? I have an estranged relationship with one of my children. How can I be grateful? My head is pounding. Where is the gratitude there?

I have a peace within which doesn’t dim. I’m grateful for that. It’s a state of being which is always there, even when my viewpoint is clouded over by the insistence of outer events. I lose sight of it when I am out of a place of finding gratitude in the moment, and it can feel like being swallowed by a whale. 

When I can turn my attention to all that is right, all that is good in my life, I find my way back to that place of peace. Gratitude is that powerful!

Right now, awaiting the storm, I am grateful that I have emergency lights, that I have secured my balcony furniture as well as I can, that I have all I need, and that I have prepared to the best of my ability. Now I get to take a painkiller and be gentle with myself. I get to read a good book and listen to peaceful music (as long as the electricity holds). I am grateful for my apartment, and for the shelter being offered to those much less fortunate than myself.

The storm may swirl and pound, but I am safe and warm. I’m deeply grateful for that place of inner calm which allows me to remember that, in all things.

On Another Gray Day

 I use Insight Timer to either time my meditation session and bring me peacefully into the moment, or to listen to a gently guided longer session. Every day, there is an inspirational quote, and today’s was pertinent to the gifts of expressing gratitude: Wellbeing is attained little by little, and nevertheless is no little thing itself.  Zeno of Citium

Gratitude is a choice. Expressing gratitude is an action, and experiencing gratitude is the fruit of taking that action. There are days when it can be difficult to find something to be grateful for, unless it becomes a solid practice. Gray days can be like that; lack of natural sunlight is a challenge for many folks, engendering a sense of ennui or outright depression. But little things add up to become big results.

On this gray day, I am grateful for shelter. I’m excited by the prospect of baking some homemade cinnamon rolls while wearing my coziest clothes. I have peace in my life. It’s a good day for reflection, for reading a good book, for enjoying a well-made movie or series. I’m grateful for having worked in an industry which provides me a pension so that I can do these things, and I appreciate that past work experience.

I have my breath. Such a glorious gift! I have my wits, my hopes and dreams, and the ability to take action. No small things. And I have the actually small things: all the little blessings which can be unnoticed until I see the big results.

It’s gray outside, but my gratitude for all it contains still shines bright.

Surprised by Peace

 The outer situation continues to confound, but I find that I’m still meeting it with peace. That’s a gift for which I’m grateful. 

Here are the basics: my car died just before Christmas, so arranging for it to be repaired (after having to weigh whether or not repair was a viable option), was complicated by the dual holidays. After thinking I had dotted all the i’s and crossed all the t’s, I found that I hadn’t confirmed that the shop holding my car would in fact be open today… it wasn’t. I had borrowed a car and gone the 13 miles to where it’s parked, and will have to do the same tomorrow. The good news: I’m able to borrow the car again tomorrow, the shop where I’m having it towed wasn’t negatively impacted, and I was able to stop at a store for necessities. All is well!

As I was driving back, I was able to enjoy the beautiful view of the mountains - a rarity in this agricultural area where airborne particulate matter is a fact of life and can blur the views. Being a holiday, the traffic was minimal, and the drive was easy. 

I have the luxury of time to consider my next car purchase or lease because I can get the one I have now repaired. I am grateful for not having to rush a decision which last week seemed to be my only option. I can relax and breathe, knowing that I have the means to take care of this unexpected expense. I’m deeply grateful for that.

My Higher Power - which I often refer to as “my team” or “my posse” - is with me at every step. I feel the reality of that. I see the fruit of holding that belief, and I breathe it in.

With that, I am grateful for this day - just as it is.

Why “Gratitude from Gratitude”?

 I was with a circle of friends one New Year’s Eve, and we were asked to give a one-word answer to the question “What are you grateful for?” My word was “gratitude”, simply because I had recently felt the wonder and depth in the feeling.

I’ve thought of this sensation as ‘cellular gratitude’ because it can be a full-body feeling. I think that by truly, deeply feeling the gratitude I express, my body is producing oxytocin, the love hormone. Gratitude is what allows me to fall in love with the moment, to truly experience the wonder that is. Hence, the name of this year’s blog.

I hope you’ll stick with me as I explore the daily wonders and the deep joy felt through the active practice of feeling and expressing gratitude!