By JoAnne Young
A doodad on our fireplace spells out Gratitude in an interesting shade of turquoise, with a little bell attached that seemingly would ring each time I am grateful, or each time a breeze would shake it to remind me of the message.
If that’s not enough, a sticker on our bathroom mirror says simply: Grateful.
It’s a gentle nudge, a heads up, that there are so many people, places and things worthy of acknowledging.
But ... in these times there are equal numbers of miscreants, bad deeds and tribulations that make gratitude more of a chore. I’ve tried to combat these with a gratitude journal or a daily list of what I’m grateful for and have failed at it every time. I’m not sure why. I know it’s supposed to be really good for us, especially when we’re feeling mentally challenged. It works for a lot of people.
I feel like a gratitude drop out, having to work so hard to make that list every day.
Then I discovered a writer on Substack, Kate Bowler, who describes herself as a “human with big questions.” Last month she seemed to understand my dilemma when she offered up prompts to substitute when writing what you are grateful for “just isn’t going to cut it.” Just in case you are interested, I will share some. Feel free to join me.
Q: What minor inconvenience has become your entire personality this week?
A: My television service with formerly ALLO, now DirecTV, has taken too much of my time and brain space trying to make it work as it is supposed to work. ALLO, once for me a trusted local company, ended its TV service and encouraged all its customers to switch to DirecTV, touting that it would cost less and deliver the seamless entertainment I deserve. Maybe I don’t deserve seamless entertainment, because it is quite glitchy and has to be rebooted daily. After a multitude of phone calls to both ALLO and DirecTV and a change in equipment, the problem persists, and a woman in a faraway state told me that maybe our Samsung TV, which we bought in 2020, is too old for the Gemini device that is paired with DirecTV. That, I told her, would be an expensive fix. She chuckled and agreed.
First world problem, I know. I’ve run out of solutions, and am now just disappointed with ALLO, and consequently untrusting of local companies I once had faith in. I’m back to thinking, 'well, that’s how our world works these days.' But also grateful that was my biggest problem this week.
Q: What are you pretending not to care about?
A: That my country’s food inspection system has seemingly been dismantled and we’re going to continue to find out the foods we depend on in our grocery stores and restaurants may or may not be safe, depending on the day. What can you do but stop eating salads and raw fruits and vegetables and eggs and other foods amid the mounting recalls. I’ll just cook everything. And wine hasn’t been recalled yet, has it?
Q: What is something that brought you unexpected cheer recently?
If that’s not enough, a sticker on our bathroom mirror says simply: Grateful.
It’s a gentle nudge, a heads up, that there are so many people, places and things worthy of acknowledging.
But ... in these times there are equal numbers of miscreants, bad deeds and tribulations that make gratitude more of a chore. I’ve tried to combat these with a gratitude journal or a daily list of what I’m grateful for and have failed at it every time. I’m not sure why. I know it’s supposed to be really good for us, especially when we’re feeling mentally challenged. It works for a lot of people.
I feel like a gratitude drop out, having to work so hard to make that list every day.
Then I discovered a writer on Substack, Kate Bowler, who describes herself as a “human with big questions.” Last month she seemed to understand my dilemma when she offered up prompts to substitute when writing what you are grateful for “just isn’t going to cut it.” Just in case you are interested, I will share some. Feel free to join me.
Q: What minor inconvenience has become your entire personality this week?
A: My television service with formerly ALLO, now DirecTV, has taken too much of my time and brain space trying to make it work as it is supposed to work. ALLO, once for me a trusted local company, ended its TV service and encouraged all its customers to switch to DirecTV, touting that it would cost less and deliver the seamless entertainment I deserve. Maybe I don’t deserve seamless entertainment, because it is quite glitchy and has to be rebooted daily. After a multitude of phone calls to both ALLO and DirecTV and a change in equipment, the problem persists, and a woman in a faraway state told me that maybe our Samsung TV, which we bought in 2020, is too old for the Gemini device that is paired with DirecTV. That, I told her, would be an expensive fix. She chuckled and agreed.
First world problem, I know. I’ve run out of solutions, and am now just disappointed with ALLO, and consequently untrusting of local companies I once had faith in. I’m back to thinking, 'well, that’s how our world works these days.' But also grateful that was my biggest problem this week.
Q: What are you pretending not to care about?
A: That my country’s food inspection system has seemingly been dismantled and we’re going to continue to find out the foods we depend on in our grocery stores and restaurants may or may not be safe, depending on the day. What can you do but stop eating salads and raw fruits and vegetables and eggs and other foods amid the mounting recalls. I’ll just cook everything. And wine hasn’t been recalled yet, has it?
Q: What is something that brought you unexpected cheer recently?
A: An afternoon at the zoo with a best friend. The flamboyant crest of blue feathers on the peacock’s head. The spider monkeys racing around grabbing branches with tails, hands and feet. The young boy who was a butterfly magnet. They landed on his Under Armour hat and his shirt without him even trying. And the arguing flamingos at the water hole, and the one nearby that slept through it.
Q: Name three things that are currently holding your life together.
A: The people with whom I can share truth, insight, laughter and comfort. It’s important, as Anne Lamott says, especially when your mind is cranky, cringey and trying to figure out who to blame. Sharing what’s troubling me always seems to lessen it.
Treats. I have a quote on a shelf I pass frequently by Irish writer and philosopher Iris Murdoch that says: “One of the secrets of a continuous happy life is continuous small treats.” A dark chocolate square. A top-spiral notebook with a Starry Night cover. A Pilot G-2 bold tip pen. Drinking my kombucha out of a Bodum double-wall glass, in which the kombucha seems to float. A brief talk with a stranger. A chocolate chip pancake. Fresh air.
Books and writers. I’m reading an 18th-century gothic novel by Ann Radcliffe an enjoying the way people talked and wrote in late 1700s England. “She immediately withdrew from the casement, and though much agitated, sought in sleep the refreshment of a short oblivion.” Ahh, yes. I could use a short oblivion.
I also find respite in female essay writers: Randon Billings Noble, Sue William Silverman, Judith Kitchen and Suleika Jaouad. In the Isolation Journals on Substack, Jaouad, who is herself going through long-term cancer treatment, wrote about an older chihuahua she and her husband Jon Batiste are watching after. The dog, Nonna, was near death when she came to their house, and somehow through medical care and love, she lived on. Still, Jaouad knows this will be a short love story.
A: The people with whom I can share truth, insight, laughter and comfort. It’s important, as Anne Lamott says, especially when your mind is cranky, cringey and trying to figure out who to blame. Sharing what’s troubling me always seems to lessen it.
Treats. I have a quote on a shelf I pass frequently by Irish writer and philosopher Iris Murdoch that says: “One of the secrets of a continuous happy life is continuous small treats.” A dark chocolate square. A top-spiral notebook with a Starry Night cover. A Pilot G-2 bold tip pen. Drinking my kombucha out of a Bodum double-wall glass, in which the kombucha seems to float. A brief talk with a stranger. A chocolate chip pancake. Fresh air.
Books and writers. I’m reading an 18th-century gothic novel by Ann Radcliffe an enjoying the way people talked and wrote in late 1700s England. “She immediately withdrew from the casement, and though much agitated, sought in sleep the refreshment of a short oblivion.” Ahh, yes. I could use a short oblivion.
I also find respite in female essay writers: Randon Billings Noble, Sue William Silverman, Judith Kitchen and Suleika Jaouad. In the Isolation Journals on Substack, Jaouad, who is herself going through long-term cancer treatment, wrote about an older chihuahua she and her husband Jon Batiste are watching after. The dog, Nonna, was near death when she came to their house, and somehow through medical care and love, she lived on. Still, Jaouad knows this will be a short love story.
“When time shrinks, everything sharpens,” she wrote. “... Earlier this week I sat on my porch and watched her have her best day yet. She tiptoed onto the dewy grass, froze, then decided to scamper across the lawn anyway. She investigated every dandelion as if it were a revelation. ... She’s even started to play.
“I used to think love was proven over time” she wrote, “accumulated, measured in years. But this experience has me reconsidering. Maybe love has nothing to do with time at all. Maybe it’s the decision to show up fully for something fragile and fleeting even when you know it will break your heart. Especially then.”
“I used to think love was proven over time” she wrote, “accumulated, measured in years. But this experience has me reconsidering. Maybe love has nothing to do with time at all. Maybe it’s the decision to show up fully for something fragile and fleeting even when you know it will break your heart. Especially then.”
Gratitude.
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Read 5 Women Mayhem on Facebook ... and good news -- we are now on Substack at 5womenmayhem.substack.com. We are still figuring things out, but when you find us there, please subscribe. (It's free!)
I could so relate but could not express it in such direct, eloquent words as you did, JoAnne, thank you!👏👏
ReplyDeleteLovely!
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