It’s the rest of the week. Is there anything that would make it easier to rest right now?
No doubt you’ve heard about the research, or read it for yourself—how everything improves (health, grades, relationships, probably even IQ—although don’t quote me on that one) when you keep a simple gratitude list. And if you are that eager-beaver mom (person) managing your anxieties by doing all the right things, you’ve tried to get everyone in your sphere of influence to write down, or at least report on what they’re thankful for.
In our family, this looked like a Friday evening ritual where I made everyone answer The Question: “What are you thankful for this week?”
I’m sure it’s no coincidence that one particularly intense stage of my life corresponded to the stage of resistance and eye-ball rolling on the part of our children. Nevertheless, as artificial as the exercise felt (at that time), there was almost always a softening and shift in the atmosphere as we acknowledged the good.
Collecting the good and happy things as they come along can quiet the background chatter of our concerns and provide some joy in the here and now—like pausing to notice, smell, or pick the flowers on a steep trail.
So, here is an invitation to pause and recollect, re-collect, past moments into a gratitude bouquet that captures your admiration and appreciation for what is lovely and good.
What/who are the flowers and colors in your bouquet?
Thinking back over this past week (or further back), what are you glad for?
Did the rain bring respite from smothering heat?
Did the sunshine sparkle through the leaves to brighten your mood?
Did you catch the green light and make it on time?
Did the person behind you refrain from honking when you didn’t immediately charge forth the second the traffic light blinked from red to green?
Did your preparations pay off with a job well done?
Did someone of experience share sound advice?
Did you read a weathered promise that reminded you that all shall be made right?
Did someone spontaneously hug you?
Did someone benefit from a secret kindness you provided?
Did you get a full night’s sleep?
Did a curious gecko stand still beside you on the front porch, waiting for the moment you might open the door and invite her in?
Did your tastebuds jump for joy with the flavor of an old favorite, or at the imagination of deliciousness nestled in every pixel of that photo someone sent you from far away?
In spite of the heat, we are living in a world of lush green, and I’ve been soaking it in as I drive around from day to day—thinking of green pastures and rest. But, when I began to re-collect my own gratitudes, surprisingly, this Chick-fil-Ain’t sandwich dominated the arrangement.
Or maybe not so surprisingly—it represents so much more than good food.
I told you about the Unexpected moment of meaning for Ricardo and I as we recollected our marriage 25 years ago. I also told you that “we were intentional and celebrated well…”
There’s a backstory to celebrating intentionally and well. Ricardo and I had to navigate our respective tendencies: one, to let practicality limit the richness of our celebration, and, two, to let the pressure of making everything deeply meaningful to the point of “meaningful” developing a life all its own that eclipsed the whole point.
So we sat down and planned. We had fun thinking about all the places we love and the exotic places yet to be experienced. And in the end, for good and intentional reasons, we stayed in North Carolina.
(It does not escape my attention that people travel here for their own vacations and I am grateful to live here).
On our two-hour drive to the mountains, I asked Ricardo, “what are your expectations for this time?”
(Which, of course, was my way of checking in with myself to be sure there were no nagging resentments hiding in the corner somewhere, ready to pounce at the most inopportune moment—as they are wont to do).
We verbalized that there were no expectations and that we would not rule something out just because it didn’t meet some unspoken standard of what constitutes a worthwhile thing to do on a silver wedding anniversary.
There was only the desire to enjoy our time, to practice being present, and to hold the memory of our wedding day 25 years prior.
(Please notice I said “practice being present.” Realizing it’s all a work in progress keeps those pesky expectations from sneaking in).
There were a myriad of small surprises to enjoy—that sandwich! So yummy. And catching a tree in the act of stepping onto the path right behind us—I suspect sneaking from one side of the trail to the other. And the infectious joy bubbling through the river water as it rushed with abandon over the edge of a cliff and splashing down and away, an offering of life.
Our rustic cabin had an old DVD player and a stack of movies. We picked one, one that I’ve been avoiding watching for years, and enjoyed it. (I’m still in a kind of paradigm shift afterglow that is propelling me forward in my own personal growth thanks to that movie.)
For me to have written “we celebrated well”, instead of saying how we settled for something different and it was really OK in the end, or that we learned some lesson anyway, highlights a huge internal shift.
That growing contentment is the thing I am most grateful for as I pause in recollection.
As you re-collect your own gratitudes, may you remember where you have been, notice how far you’ve come, and rest in the Love that accompanies you on your way forward.
And, thank you for all the ways you show up as an agent of Love, right where you are. You probably have no idea how many people are thankful for you.
Alicia