Photo Credit: © 2016 Jonathan Foust www.jonathanfoust.com |
And I know what I have to do now. I gotta keep breathing. Because tomorrow
the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring?”
William Broyles Jr., Cast Away
It's the season of giving thanks in America. On the third Thursday of November, we gather with our families and friends, eat too much food, and settle into our tryptophan coma to watch football or plan our Black Friday shopping strategies. In these traditions, we celebrate abundance and relationship and take time to focus on remembering what is good in our lives. In my family, we always went around the table as we were settling in to eat, and each person named what they were thankful for . . . family, friends, a good jobs and financial stability, God, freedom, time off . . . those were the things that most often made the lists. The easy stuff.
At work this week, one of our celebrations of the holiday involved writing our own version of the gratitude list on a piece of paper to be displayed throughout the office. I admit that, in the wake of the presidential election just a couple of weeks ago, anxiety and fear have been at the forefront of my emotional landscape for the most part — so, even this small invitation to think about what I am thankful for felt difficult. After a couple of hours of sort of ignoring it, I finally picked up the marker and wrote, "All of it. Every. Single. Thing." A few days later, a co-worker was giving me a hard time. She said, "Really? Everything? So, that means you are grateful for Trump?"
Of course, my initial reaction to the comment was a rise of irritation with this person for what felt like an intentional jab at a still very open wound. I took some moments to let that settle before responding. In those moments, I came back to some recent wisdom from my friend and teacher, Tara Brach. She said, "Light often has to first peek out through the fog, creating strange shadows and mysterious shapes. And then, in surprisingly short time, the mists clear and reveal a brilliantly clear, bright day. It’s all beautiful, even the confusing, dreamy, disorienting parts."
It's all beautiful.
It's so easy to practice gratitude when all is well. Of course we feel that expansion in our hearts when we experience the love of a child or dear friend, or when we buy our first home, or when we are rewarded and praised for a job well done. But what about when things are not going so well? What about when everything seems to go to hell and the world around us seems shadowy and confusing and even hostile?
That is the time, I think, that is most essential to dig down deep and find it. There is always something to acknowledge in our lives, even on the worst day. The most devastating and painful situations often bring the most spectacular blessings into our lives, if we can just hold on long enough for the fog to clear and reveal them. Even if there is nothing we can think of in this moment, we can be grateful for the truth of impermanence . . . the certainty that this, too, will pass.
Throughout my life, I have struggled with often debilitating depression, anxiety, post traumatic stress, and addiction. These versions of Mara (suffering) visit more often than I would like, though not nearly as often as they once did. I am convinced that this is directly related to my meditation practice and ongoing engagement on this spiritual path. Learning how to stay present in this moment has so deepened my ability to feel gratitude for all that is good in my life and trust in the notion that everything that expands my heart does not disappear just because I have been plunged into some temporary darkness - just as when the sun sets, it doesn't cease to exist, and it doesn't stop giving off light and heat. It will rise again. Every. Single. Time.
For me, gratitude has to be a very intentional practice. It starts with recognizing the love and goodness in my life every day — not just giving it a passing glance, but really seeing and acknowledging it by expressing it out loud, over and over. Reaching out to others and telling them what they mean to me. Giving from my abundance — whether it is money, or kindness, or time — turning around and offering to others what is so often and generously offered to me.
When I do those things, my heart grows. I savor that feeling. I sit with it. I memorize it — how it feels in my body and how it feels in my soul. And then, on the dark days, when the sun disappears, I can dig down deep and bring it right back. And I do. Purposefully. With great intention. And I sit with that. And while I am sitting with that, I consider what the darkness might offer to me. What will be my takeaway when the sun peeks out again and the fog burns away? What am I learning here? How might this serve to awaken? Can I be grateful for this too? Can I be grateful, no matter what?
So back to my co-worker's question. Trump . . . Trump will pass. Not quickly, and not without significant damage, but he will. The gift of impermanence. And, in the meantime, I will likely be given opportunities that can only be afforded to me through fear and struggle and, as a result, I will grow. I can trust that. I will grow more compassionate, more determined, more resilient. So, yes — cause for gratitude. Even for Trump.
If, at the end of my life, there is a story to be told, I hope it is that the last words I uttered were, "Thank You." The thing is, even though the journey is so often fucked up and heartbreaking and the road is so often just barely passable, like my teacher says, "It's all beautiful." All of it. And the conscious choice — the choosing over and over again — to just keep going, led me to exactly where I needed to be all along.
And so, this year, my Thanksgiving prayer:
May all beings trust the light even when it is difficult to see.
May we feel safe in these days of uncertainty
May we take the time to remember love and peace
May we live in gratitude
For ourselves, and each other
May all beings awaken and be free
Thank you!
ReplyDelete🙏
DeleteThank-you for sharing! I read it and just reread it. And it is so honest, real and pure. Your words touched my heart and have given me a road map of sort.
DeleteI often get lost in the minutiae of all the daily comings and goings. The burdens I carry with me, of yesterday and tomorrow, serve no purpose.
I too have battled deep levels of anxiety and depression. So your words ring true, and give me hope.
I have so very much to be grateful for in this very instant.
This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing it.
ReplyDelete🙏
DeleteThank you - this is wonderful!
ReplyDelete🙏
DeleteDear Christy,
ReplyDeleteI have read this blog post many times and subsequently shared it on Facebook with a number of friends, all of whom are struggling these days. I just wanted to thank you very much for these thoughts and insights. I am sure I will continue to read tyour words often over the next few (4?!) years. Thanks you again. And I wish you peace in the new year.