“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” — Albert Einstein
This week, we woke to the first real frost, which beautifully lined the leaves overnight with sparkling white trim. Tuesday, we got up at dawn to see the lunar eclipse, which turned the moon a stunning, dusky rose, while stars still lit up the sky. Experiencing moments like these reminds me that we're part of a much larger universe that works without our input or control.
Moments like these also make me feel a sense of gratitude. It can be something big (like an eclipse) or something small (like taking a bite from a delicious pear), but I have found that deep appreciation can change my entire outlook, and it has taken me from gratitude cynic to fan.
Catch a Gratitude Updraft
I remember reaching the ridge of Hawk Mountain in Pennsylvania my first time when I was a teenager, hiking with my Youth Audubon Group. We'd just come around the bend to a clearing in the woods where the view opened up. And there, just like the name implies, were hawks cruising by. Not way up high in the sky, but right there at eye level. I felt like I could touch them.
I learned about how hawks could fly for miles without exerting much effort. Instead of flapping the entire way, they ride the updraft of the ridge line. They soar. They coast. I have carried that image with me all these years and was reminded of it several months ago when I started a new practice with a friend.
Every day we send a gratitude text. No talking, no back and forth, no commenting. Just listing 3 things we're grateful for. This can be small and specific (like hazelnut coffee) or large and profound (like the stars and moon). Somedays I have to really push to find 3 things to share; some days there's more than enough that flows out from me. But I find that just writing these simple words gives me a lift. I call it the gratitude updraft.
Before, I was a gratitude cynic.
I thought that living in gratitude meant thinking everything was rosy and closing our eyes to the hard stuff. I thought it meant shutting out what we don't like and focusing only on what we do like. Like saying we’re happy with a cold bowl of porridge when we know we wanted it steaming hot. "What's the point of that?" I thought. It feels like lying.
But now I see it differently.
When I write to my friend, it feels like catching the updraft. It's a practice that helps me sail into my day from a good place.
It's something that happens in my writing groups, too. We start out with intentional prompts that put us in a different mindset, crossing the threshold from ordinary thinking to our creative brain. The writing starts to flow.
In a retreat structure, we migrate.
In working with writers over the past few years, I have noticed the tendency to be hard on ourselves about what we've written. It's an inner urge to improve, to become more skilled, but it can also feel harsh and self-defeating. Flap. Flap. Flap. But by giving ourselves the time and space to write, we break through any resistance or self doubt, and cruise for a while.
It's the coolest thing. There's something about starting out in the morning, and staying with it a whole day. We break, and some people might rest and think. Others will walk and get an idea that makes a whole piece click. In a retreat, we don't just put it down and come back to it later. When we feel a sense of gratitude for our own writing journey, we catch that wind and soar.
Sense of Place Tip: Write out three things, the length of a text, that you're grateful for. Grateful for a new day. Grateful for hot water. Grateful for Donna. That's about it for how this practice works. Better yet, find a friend you can do this with—it's a wonderful feeling to know they are expecting to hear from you. Make a rule of no-cross talk. It makes it so much simpler to do it that way. Often my texts are about what I observe just out my window. This grounds me deeply in my sense of place right where I am.
Favorite Thing Tip: I really love these beautiful Reflection Cards, created by local therapist Jeannie Lightfoot. They come with a wonderful stone holder. I picked up a set at our local bookstore and love using them. You could make a set too, but I appreciate her artwork, and supporting her work. I pick a card and often ponder that one word throughout the day.