Just Gratitude

My grandmother gave birth to my dad, her eighth child, in a dugout with a dirt floor. Once I said to her, "Living like that must have been terribly difficult," as I tried to coax her story of a hardscrabble existence. She responded, "Oh, no! It wasn't hard at all. We had the most wonderful neighbors." Then she turned the story to acts of kindness she had experienced from those who lived nearby.

Grandmother always had a grateful, peaceful state of mind. It seemed to be innate.

I, on the other hand, have to work at it. For many years my emotions were shut down, as I stressfully plowed my way through degrees and career advances. When I began to change, the first feelings that poured out were grief and anger.

Then I learned to express gratitude. My first experience was so simple, as I got into my car one morning and realized I had enough gasoline for the day. I felt truly grateful--maybe for the first time in my life--for that gasoline.

Since that day, gratitude has come more easily.

As I sit here in a half-empty house, making preparation for our move to Sedona, I could slip into sadness or overwhelm. In fact, when that happened a couple of days ago, I called a friend to express my feelings. She asked, "What are you grateful for?" As I focused on what I'm grateful for, I felt my gloom lift until there was no darkness at all.

Just gratitude.