Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. When I was growing up, it was a time when family gathered for dinner at our grandparents’ or at Great Aunt Helen’s. (They took turns.) The children played raucous games upstairs while the adults commiserated over cocktails — an age-appropriate happy hour. Generations were also divided at dinner — two tables for turkey and all the trimmings. There were place cards. One thing we shared was “Grace,” repeated in unison: “Father we thank you for this food. Bless us. Help us to be good. Amen.”
The world has changed, and so has my family. My Thanksgiving dinner is now turkey for two in the kitchen with slim trimmings. The PBS News Hour is our only guest. The blessing is inclusive and impromptu. Still, we share gratitude with Grace.
I end each day with writing in my gratitude journal. No matter how challenging the day, I can always find things for which I am grateful. Naming them in writing quiets my monkey mind before sleep and invites and illumines the gift of Grace into my consciousness. I often “hear” Grace in my dreams or in my morning meditation, a good way to begin the day. Gratitude and Grace nourish each other.
Many of the things I am grateful for are small and ordinary, the low-hanging fruit of gratitude: food, a walk, a visit with a friend, a good book. Some trigger old memories that appear in new light — the lemons squeezed into lemonade. A few startle me when I see them on the page — especially amazing friends I connect and the ripple effects of their collaboration in the world. I am grateful for the humility and empathy that gratitude inspires and for those who lend me a hand. I am grateful when I can help neighbors in need and for good companions in worthy work. I am grateful for quiet time with Grace.
Gratitude becomes an attitude with practice. Living a life of gratitude sparks wonder and opens me to positive possibilities. It is not an intellectual expectation that kindness will be returned. it is a wholehearted commitment to be kind, even in anger. Gratitude is not “being nice” or even polite. It is telling my truth with compassion in ways that are helpful. It is listening as much as speaking. It is hopeful not hurtful. Gratitude is graceful.
I recently had a routine mammogram, not an annual celebration I look forward to. What would the weather be? The roads were either pitted with potholes or closed for construction. I had to wear a mask. Riding, sitting, and standing are not a good combination for my back. The x-ray machine would be ice-cold. Compression is uncomfortable… BUT
The weather was dry. We missed construction delays. I was in good company with my mask. The technician was gentle, professional, and kind. As we balanced my back and breasts for the mug shots, I quipped, “It pays to be a yogi.”
It turns out the technician and I have both been yoga teachers, used to live in Texas, and acknowledge Grace in our lives. When I left, she bowed to me and said, “You have a blessed day. Namaste.” I am grateful for Linda.
All day, every day, let us celebrate gratitude and Grace.