Gratitude... When Nothing's Going Right
Author: Marina Alteza
At times it may be challenging to step into a state of gratitude. But gratitude can lift some of the weight of unsavory thoughts and feelings.
I’m not sure at what point I started to practice gratitude. But this practice, among others, such as mindfulness, saved me.
There was resistance at first. On the day I began my gratitude journey, I asked myself, “What is there to be thankful for in being sick?” What followed was this: “There’s nothing to be grateful for.” I conceded to my ego.
The following day was a little better. I aimed a little lower. I looked for the low hanging fruit — smaller things that I appreciated, like having the ability to walk even if it was only a short distance, listen to music, breathe, and drink my tea.
Each day I identified what brought me joy, what brought me peace, what made me smile, and what made me see differently.
And from there, I started to look for opportunities to be thankful, whether it was at the hospital or cooped up in my room, or when I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror because I had lost so much weight or when the normal that I knew was upended.
Especially during moments of acute fear, I searched deep and long for that tiny scrap of something, anything to drop my gratitude anchor in.
There was resistance at first. On the day I began my gratitude journey, I asked myself, “What is there to be thankful for in being sick?” What followed was this: “There’s nothing to be grateful for.” I conceded to my ego.
The following day was a little better. I aimed a little lower. I looked for the low hanging fruit — smaller things that I appreciated, like having the ability to walk even if it was only a short distance, listen to music, breathe, and drink my tea.
Each day I identified what brought me joy, what brought me peace, what made me smile, and what made me see differently.
And from there, I started to look for opportunities to be thankful, whether it was at the hospital or cooped up in my room, or when I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror because I had lost so much weight or when the normal that I knew was upended.
Especially during moments of acute fear, I searched deep and long for that tiny scrap of something, anything to drop my gratitude anchor in.
The person who I thought I was started to disappear right before my eyes. In retrospect, I recognize now why the fear was heightened. Part of my identity was attached to my body. If the body fades, then who am I?
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