The Gratitude Attitude

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“Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.” —John Milton

The poet Rumi once wrote, “Wear gratitude like a cloak and it will feed every corner of your life.”

I put this cloak on the day I was diagnosed with cancer, and I have to say that not only did it fit like a well-worn garment, but I also looked good in it. When wearing it, the important things in life seemed to spring up all around me. What once only occupied a small corner of my field of vision became the background against which all of life's happenings were cast. Mindless moments spent in fear became meditations of solitude, helping to dissolve stress.

In gratitude, no stone was left unturned as even passing encounters with strangers became opportunities to reconnect with everyday life beyond a cancer diagnosis. The simple things transformed into essential reminders of the delicate and intricate wonder of life.

I would like to say that I've worn this cloak since that day; however, the truth is that more frequently than I like to admit, it goes back into the closet. During these times, I once again sweat the small stuff, petty annoyances unnerve me, and my fuse grows shorter, as if my needs should be everyone’s concern. Minus the framework of thankfulness, epiphanies give way to confusion, awe turns to fear, and wonder gives way to questioning the point of it all.

The upside of this experience is that it is commonly shared with many of the clients I see in therapy and therefore can be used as therapeutic leverage when I’m trying to sell the idea of a gratitude attitude.

It has become common practice in psychotherapy to replace journaling one’s daily adventures—often leading to a diary of misery—with writing down the things that one is grateful for. Despite this, many of my clients struggle with this assignment. Some will push back on the concept of only writing the good stuff due to the false belief that for therapy to work you have to focus on the bad stuff. Others, whose lives are truly filled with tragic events, strain to find something to appreciate buried within what one referred to as the “dumpster bin of life.”

Those who do take on the homework and feel a sense of immediate relief are often disappointed when their gratitude begins to wane. The question that often follows is some form of, “What happened? Why can’t I just be grateful all the time?”

My therapeutic answer to the question is, “Life happened. Sometimes it hurts, and it's hard to be thankful while in pain.”

When prescribing gratitude to clients, I’m mindful that not everyone will jump on the giving-thanks train simply because research tells us that giving thanks can improve sleep and mood and decrease one's risk of depression or anxiety. I know from my personal and professional experience, though, that being told to be thankful can ring hollow and leave one feeling like a child who’s been scolded for having the “wrong” attitude.

So as not to leave my clients feeling like I just wagged a parental finger at them, I will point out the following observations that came to me through my cancer journey:

• We find what is meaningful in life when our attention turns away from the minutia and trivial distractions that surround us.
• We don’t ever lose our appreciation, but we can misplace it.
• Taking life for granted is essentially our culturally-induced default mode: We are conditioned to lose our sense of awe and wonder.
• Being thankful is a habit that grows stronger the more we engage in it.
• It’s OK if, in the moment, the only thing we can think of to be grateful for is the fact that we’re aware that we’re not being very appreciative.

I routinely remind my clients, and myself, that the absence of Milton’s “transcendent moments of awe” does not mean that one is “doing it wrong.” It can take time to chip away at the cynical shell that many of us surrounded ourselves with in hopes of surviving life’s gut punches. With equal doses of patience and perseverance, the habit loop of reaching for the cloak of gratitude happens reflexively, and one experiences the world as less threatening— and that is worth giving thanks.