Thoughts on Gratitude

Is it possible to be grateful when your world is falling apart? And even if you could be, you might ask, “Why should I be?”

If we fight, if we regret, if we focus on questions like, “What if my life hadn’t turned out this way?” we battle a silent specter within. We rail, we wail, we fight an unwinnable fight. We cannot reverse what has happened to us or to the one whom we have loved.

In the vast expanse of territory between anger and despair, the possibility exists for us to let in gentle whispers of gratitude for the end-of-day golden sunlight, for the warbler’s springtime song, for dancing swirls of wind. Once you open your mind to gratitude, you might first experience an almost imperceptible change and, in time, the anger, the remorse, the deep-seated feeling that life is so unfair will release its strangling grip. You will feel the pressing weight lifted from your chest; you’ll be able to breathe more easily and see the stars sparkling at night.

I tell you this knowing that it is hard to be open to gratitude, but having walked mile upon mile of darkness and pain, I now welcome the pink-and-pale-lavender streaks of light at daybreak.