How Practicing Gratitude Changed the Way I Live My Life
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I am a carnival ride of emotions every time I get my period. In fact, I can’t think of a single period–since crossing over into the dark side of puberty–where I haven’t at least cried a little. And, as much as I’d love to believe I reign supreme over my hormonally-induced emotions, I know that subscribing to such a belief would only be a lie.
A few months ago, on a wintery Saturday, I was feeling pretty sad. My period had arrived, for one, and with it came the realization that I wasn’t pregnant. It felt like Hope turned its back on me as if to say, Sorry, girl. I’ll catch you next month.
I became a deflated little thing curled up on my bed, crying into my pillow with my dog staring at me curiously. Just that night, I was talking to a friend about my conception woes when I learned that an acquaintance took pleasure in the fact that my husband and I were having trouble conceiving. She had a bad marriage and was an unhappy person–but she did have a child.
And, I was full of pain and ultimately rage.
In the past, I would have become a fire-breathing dragon in a second flat. I would have hunted her down and hurled such vengeful expletives in her direction, Mother Earth would have begun to shake along with me.
But a couple of years ago, I decided to drop the mic. None of that venomous ranting ever made me feel better. It only created horrible episodes of regret for myself once I calmed down, and it added further ugliness to the world. Besides, I knew she had to be a rather unhappy and hurting person to celebrate another woman’s misfortune.
So, this time, I did not retaliate. Nope.
Instead, I only allowed myself to remain in that space for a moment before turning my eyes away from it and filling up my well of hurt with gratitude.
I found gratitude was the answer for a lot of what I was feeling. I considered every person who came to mind for having blessed me with kindness–from colleagues I had worked with to my aunt.
And, you know what? It worked.
I went from blowing snot into a ball of tissues to giggling to myself about all of the heart-warming and hilarious inside jokes I share with people I admire and love. My headspace went from steaming mad to being swarmed with the buzz of loving memories–memories that were serving to cradle me.
I began to consider how common it is to go weeks without taking a moment to feel sincere gratitude for something. We often complain that we never have enough of this or enough of that–from love to money to time. But what is the point of having more love, money and time if we aren’t grateful for the relationships, the funds and the hours we have already?
I now strive to fill my every day with gratitude. I force myself to get evidence of my gratefulness onto the page. Sometimes that manifests in the form of a letter, and sometimes it means just means getting cozy in the living room to write out my thanks in my journal.
It’s gratitude that has proven to be the most reliable remedy for my bad days. Every single time.
