The Grateful Reluctant

Posted on by sereichert

I’ve been thinking a lot about Viktor Frankl the last couple of days, and in particular “Man’s Search for Meaning” as well as Logotherapy. Front and center in my life is the battle with a disorder that eats away at the brain’s ability to rationalize, be introspective, and self-calm. So I’ve been returning to this book and to this theory about our ability to shape our own lives through the perspective that we approach even the worst situations.

Listen, I can swing between a jaded-hard ass cynic to a calm-enlightened Buddhist as well as the next half-baked philosopher. But if it’s anything that tough situations will do, is force you to look at your own behavior and perspective, and how they can make things better or worse in the particular storm you’re in. In these dark and torrential seas it’s easy to let go of any idea you have control and just let the deluge overwhelm you. It’s easy to be tugged down to the bottom. It’s the easy path to let the worst parts of every journey define your day. But despite common belief, I’m not easy. (ha, Frankl also believed in humor as an excellent way to untether from the weight of heavy situations)

I believe that we are given mountains to strengthen us. I believe that we are handed hardships because that’s kind of the point of life. To see how we flow, learn, or falter in the face of trials. We are not meant to sail on smooth seas, or calm seas make for bad sailors…some metaphor with boats, you get the point. These things will come to us all. And the difference between surviving them and coming out with a better understanding of life, and coming out battered to the point we succumb to sadness and depression, lies in how we react to the circumstances.

This is where I finally get back to the title. Gratitude. I’m no Suzy Sunshine. And I’ll happily admit that there are days I struggle to find a single thing worth being thankful for. But I have this dumb little bright yellow notebook and I make myself take it out every dumb day, and I open it up and I stare at the dumb blank page, pen hovering and I MAKE myself think of three things that I am grateful for.

Why is it hard? Well, sometimes I think the world makes us believe that gratitude is only earned by big things. I’m grateful for my six-figure job, or I’m grateful for my unfailing health, etc. I think it’s a great disservice to gratitude and the inherent beauty of life to discount it if it’s not grand. Little things can be found everywhere. Little things add up. The smallest things are what we should be paying attention to. Because they’re more abundant than you realize, and, like tiny little life preservers, if you find enough of them, they can actually help you pull yourself out of that dark, enough to breathe.

So my dumb little book is filled with dumb little sentences. Warm coffee. The fox I saw on my walk. Fall leaves. Cat spit on my elbow. Dumb ass Blue Jays landing on too tiny a feeder. And from those little drips, sometimes the faucet gets turned on… Such good friends with big, open hearts that lift me up when I’m down. My parents’ laughter. My daughters. My daughters. My daughters. That we have a plan to help her. That I understand my own power. That I can cultivate my own peace. Breath.

The point is that reminding ourselves that life has light as well as dark and we have access to it at any time we choose, is inherent in shaping and creating a better life for ourselves. We get to choose how we react, and if we are reacting from a place of gratitude, and finding all of those tiny floatation devices around us, we can remain above water, and ultimately ride any wave that comes our way.

So, part of my daily routine (right after I write this blog) is to find those three things. And part of the new routine, is to share them with my daughter. Who will roll her eyes, and probably think I’m nuts for finding any happiness in such a dark time. But seeds are little things too. The tiniest ones can grow the strongest, tallest tree. So I plant them in her mind every morning, despite her reluctance. Because someday soon, her mind is going to be nourished enough, that those seeds will take root.

Be good out there today. Be grateful, even reluctantly.

Giving Thanks

Posted on by sereichert

This is a little piece I wrote many moons ago for my gig at the NCW Writing Bug (back when it wasn’t WHWA). I’ve elaborated because (well–it’s my blog here and I can write beyond 400 words if I damn well want)

My parents are pretty amazing people, and having a third and unexpected mouth to feed didn’t make their life any easier. But I am eternally beholden to them for the sacrifices they made to raise my siblings and me. I’m thankful for the love and laughter they built our home around, and for constantly working towards a better life for all of us through perseverance, patience, and honesty. Even when it meant welcoming their unexpected third (ahem–that’s me) into the world with open arms.

So today, whether you are thankful for your family, your friends, or for the simple fact you have a roof over your head, don’t be afraid to send those feelings of gratitude out into the universe. Thank the health care workers and essential medical personnel who are working against terrible corporate systems. Thank your veterans and firefighters, hell–thank your postal worker because–fucking elections right before the craziest season of the year am I right?

Thank the grocery store and retail staff who spend hours and days on their feet with the public, to try and make their own living, thank the countless other souls who’ve made do through insurmountable odds to keep us fed, and with power, who take our trash and keep our water clean, those that educate our kids with a host of new and difficult challenges. Thank your neighbor for raking your leaves or rake theirs as an act of good will. Thank the food bank for taking care of people who, despite working as hard as they can, still need help, by donating your time, your food, or your money. Showing gratitude goes a long way in a time when we are doing so many ‘thankless’ jobs.

Even if we cannot be together today, our hearts are never far apart.

And for that, I am grateful.

Making Do and Giving Thanks

One of my earliest memories was of waiting in a dark and crowded hall while my mother picked out ‘groceries’ from piles of white and black generic boxes. I didn’t understand at the time that the blocks of Velveeta-like cheese, powdered milk, and bags of rice were part of assistance programs that kept us from going hungry when the insecurity of the uranium mine had left us teetering on the edge of destitution.

My father is, and always has been, a hard worker. He took whatever job he could to support us, but in the unstable energy economy of 1980’s Wyoming there was always a fear behind my parent’s eyes. Their amazing resilience makes me tearful with pride now, as a parent myself. 

Because, back then, I never knew we lacked for anything. 

We were always fed.  We were always clothed.  We had a roof over our heads and wild game in the freezer.  We made do.  When lay offs hit, they squeezed the most out of what we had and made do.  When dad went back to college for a second degree in teaching, we lived in a small house in Laramie and made do.  When Christmas came around and three kids rushed to the living room, there was always something there to be thankful for.

I didn’t have cable as a kid; I had books. I didn’t have a TV in my room; I had the library less than two blocks away. It didn’t matter that we couldn’t afford vacations to far off places because I could go there in my mind. Pages were like my wings, rocketing me towards new and fantastic horizons. My parents couldn’t give me designer clothes or name brand shoes. They gave me Jean M. Auel, Jack London, L.M. Montgomery, Louis L’Amour, Piers Anthony, and Jane Austen. They gave me hours and days of uninterrupted reading time. I still remember mom peeking in on me, sprawled out in bed, pouring over a book, completely lost to the world around me, asking if I needed anything. 

Looking back now, and knowing what I do about how much it costs to raise a child (nonetheless three), I really couldn’t have asked for more.

We made more than just meals from small staples. We made worlds out of our love and support of one another.  My parents gave us the belief in where our minds could take us. And we made do.

Gratitude

Posted on by sereichert

I’ve been going through a few books on stress lately, some helpful apps about dealing with emotions (sans alcohol) and how to find more balance in a busy world. The common theme of late has been about finding and fostering Gratitude.

Before I go further, I don’t want you to think this is some kind of toxic positivity post wherein I’m going to urge you to stop complaining and be thankful it’s not worse, or preach to you that you shouldn’t feel the feels because you’re lucky to be alive. That’s simply bullshit. We are allowed to complain, and rage against the slings and arrows of life. In fact, a little complaining can help let off the steam on our pressure-cooker lives. We will have feelings and reactions and normal stress responses to things that upend our lives. I don’t believe in denying the pain and the struggle of our existence. I do believe that we can chose where we focus our attention, and learn to accept certain undeniable truths.

Everything will change, nothing is permanent, and pain is inevitable. We know we’ll have to live through some shit. Hard shit, unfair shit, tragic shit…all of the shit. That race track is just life, but how we manage our emotional state, our place in the world, and our response to all the shit, determines if we grow and survive or shrink and die. It also determines how much we’ll enjoy the ride.

Enter Gratitude. Yeah, I keep capitalizing it. Because I picture it as sort of a superhuman in our origin story. But Gratitude doesn’t have to be a big and imposing guy in tights, it can be a million tiny little fireflies peppered throughout our day, our weeks, our moments, that help to lighten the dark of existence. It isn’t very complicated and anyone can start a practice of gratitude.

Today, either in the morning when you wake, at night before bed, (or both if you’re feeling extra thankful) take a moment to write down three things that you’re grateful for. Then write down why they impact your life. It can be something as simple as “I woke up this morning and now I get to hug my kids” or “I have a job, that keeps food on the table” or “The sun is shining and its lighting the trees up like a painting” or “I had running water today, and a roof over my head. I’m safe and so is my family”. Some of these seem like no-brainers right? Except there are some that don’t have those things and we could be them just as easily with the flick of a bad weather pattern, a bad political coup, or the cogs of corporate greed. And it feels stupid and silly to be thankful for the sunshine when your battling cancer. It seems naive and idiotic to be grateful for that first, warm cup of coffee, when you’re behind on twenty different deadlines. It doesn’t seem like it matters to notice the good, small things. I know that. I’ve often thought it myself when I first started.

But once you start to look for the things that are good in your life, even the littlest, it’s like going hunting for fireflies. You’ll start to see them everywhere. And the more reasons you see to be thankful and grateful in life, the more light your world will become. We, in essence, can create our own reality by choosing to focus on the beautiful, strange, and charming of our lives. So… Do yourself and everyone who loves you a favor and go write down what you’re thankful for. I’ve found that it helps start my day off in a different mindset, and it actually helps me ease into sleep a little better. (That old “Count Your Blessings instead of Sheep” song from White Christmas has some clout)

I’ll start:

  1. I’m thankful for my children who teach me about myself and how to be a better person. I’m grateful that they are healthy and strong, and think for themselves
  2. I’m thankful for a warm bed, even though I wish I could spend more time in it, I’m glad to have it at the end of every day.
  3. I’m thankful for fall weather, the colors of the leaves and being able to see the painting they make everyday outside my window. Because it reminds me that nature is always in play, and her grand design is a comfort.