Spaciousness of Gratitude
I was going to finish an essay I had started last week to post – but this morning, this came to me during my morning reflection and meditation. I wanted to write my thoughts down and share this instead of editing my previous piece.
Yesterday, Rich and I had the pleasure of hosting his cousin Ginny and her husband Jim for coffee and some sweet treats. I will admit that I had wanted to meet Ginny for some time to celebrate her recently self-published chat book of poetry titled – appropriately for this post – “On Wings of Gratefulness.” (Side note: Woo-hoo to a fellow writer for accomplishing this major goal!)
I had intended to meet up to celebrate Ginny and her accomplishment, but alas, life swallowed up time -- like I tend to let it -- and I hadn’t made the time to meet up. So, despite the pull of the craziness of the holiday season, we all made time for our visit. They drove over an hour to come to our home, and Rich and I cleared our morning work calendars, tidied up things, and prepared something to eat and drink.
It was a lovely, luxurious, spacious morning with yummy sweet treats (which I never indulge in, at least in the morning), good coffee, conversation, and company without a care about the time.
We languished at the table, talking, catching up, and sharing life’s ups and downs, and I was caught with how wonderful it is to have such an authentic connection with family. It doesn’t happen often. Mainly because all of our immediate family are hours and hours away, and it takes quite an effort to gather together, so it only happens once or twice a year – if that! And also -- just because we are “related,” it can be difficult to relate! I am sure you know what I mean!
So, it was especially sweet to feel the warm, comforting, and lovely connection as our visit meandered from morning till nearing midday before it ended.
On my walk later that day, I reflected on my morning and the ho-ho-ho hurriedness of the holiday approaching when I realized what a contrast the visit was to the rush and pressure I often succumb to. That familiar pull to do, buy, and create just the perfect gift or gathering enables me to miss what I want the season to be about ..... what I feel winter offers us ... the ability to pause, hunker under a warm fuzzy blanket, and rest. We’ve – OK, “I” statements here – I have gotten out of letting the cadence of the seasons dictate what I need. As I age, I recognize the need to allow myself to hibernate and recharge during the winter.
As I walked, these thoughts were coming fast and furious, and I was wishing – and resisting -- the desire to run home to write them down. I turned a corner in the road and began walking down a grassy hill near our home, noticing there wasn’t any snow on the ground as there had been during this same walk last week. It was so different, this same scenery, without the fresh coat of snow. I recalled how brilliant the sun bounced off, shining so bright it hurt my eyes.
In that moment of reflection, I recognized that things around me on this same walk last week – had looked different as they wore their new crisp white snow uniform. Items I had previously thought an eyesore took on a beauty I hadn’t seen before– yet were always there!
The dead trees that, during the summer months, stick out like sore thumbs among the forest's lush green now seamlessly fit in among their bare brothers and sisters reaching up into the blue sky.
I then noticed how their hollow trunks provide shelter for the squirrels scurrying about to gather the nuts they have dropped conveniently for them. The smooth, naked bark shows a random pattern of holes previously drilled by what I assume had been a persistent woodpecker or two. I stop to listen, and sure enough, focus my ear to hear that familiar pecking sound tap …tappity tap… repeating in the distance. I imagine the woodpecker on another tree that to them is alive, yet to me, appeared dead. I scanned the woods to find it and gave up after a few moments. I continue walking as I take a newfound appreciation of the “dead” trees I had previously cursed, wishing someone would chop them down so I wouldn’t have to see them anymore. My feelings towards them have changed to one of gratefulness.
Just like it took a slow morning or presence to appreciate being with family despite the effort it took to arrange, I settled into this new space with a bounce as I approached my front door.
Gratitude is like that. It is a light that can shine on anything previously hidden in the shadows or kept underneath, deep in a dark and hidden place.
It may seem cliché (and if it is, I don’t honestly care) to bring up gratitude during the holiday season when we are bombarded by sometimes empty messages of “JOY!, PEACE! Or GRATEFUL” on everything from mugs, cards, napkins, jewelry and so many advertisements that pop up on my phone constantly.
Yet, today, I feel it truly and want to share it.
I feel joy, peace, and gratitude today. When I slow things down – take time – like all four of us did yesterday to have a lovely visit -- it is there. It can appear as I walk in the afternoons or early evenings watching the sun dance off the lake or pick up my cell to connect for a long talk with friends or family. Even during impromptu Facetime with family with no “agenda,” – it is incredible what delights I notice and uncover after we hang up. It’s simple. I need to create the space for it – and it appears.
Go figure. It’s that easy to feel heartfelt gratitude. And it’s available to us all – anytime!
I used to have this saying hand-painted in calligraphy by my precious and talented friend Abby on my office wall:
“The little things. The little moments. They are not little.”
I’ll leave you with a small challenge. Despite the length of your “to-do” list or how busy your calendar is – take a step away – even for a few minutes – to give yourself some breathing space. I wonder what comes up for you. I’m curious about what may appear or suddenly become clear to you as you allow the dust and busyness of your life to settle for just a moment. I wonder what “little thing” you notice that may not be so little.
I’d love to hear! Drop a comment below with what you may have found. Bonus points if it is something you have a newfound appreciation for.
May you have a peaceful and blessed beginning to the new year. May you greet it with excitement, curiosity, and potential - just as I felt as I began to write on this blank screen earlier today.
Oh, and if I haven’t said this enough to you, my dear readers. I am grateful for you being here with me.
Thank you for this beautiful post Laurie.
I had the best time sitting with my children the other day at the kitchen table. We were all creating something— my son drawing, my daughter writing letters, and me writing— while we listened to Christmas music. There was no rush. We were all content. It was the BEST moment.