By Ashley Lodato
“Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.”
– A.A. Milne, from Winnie the Pooh
Every year around this time I sit down to write my Thanksgiving week column with the intention of addressing gratitude. Some years that sentiment flows easily; other years it doesn’t. This year, gratitude feels almost like too much of a luxury to indulge in. Being grateful feels good, but is it okay to cosset ourselves in a bubble of thankfulness while the tragedy and suffering around us persists unabated?
First of all, there’s the world: Syria, Mali, Afghanistan, the West Bank. There’s Boko Haram, ISIS/ISIL/Daesch, and too many white supremacist groups to list. Then there’s Earth: catastrophic winds, landslides, earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, and — as we know all too well — wildfires. There’s poverty, hunger, child labor, slavery, economic collapse, and persecution of all flavors. There are eradicable diseases still plaguing countries without the resources to eradicate them.
(Do I sound like that Kingston Trio song “The Merry Minuet”? Remember that song? If you don’t know it, it’s well worth looking up — a little ditty whose sweet tune belies its lyrics that detail all the trouble in the world. Released almost 60 years ago, the song remains, sadly, quite relevant today.)
Ironically, it’s looking around at all the terrible things that people inflict upon other people that reminds me that, yes, it is okay — and even necessary — to practice gratitude. Gratitude is not self-indulgent; it’s what motivates us to think and act beyond ourselves. By intentionally acknowledging what we have and are grateful for, we become more aware of what many others lack, and it’s this awareness that makes us more empathetic. Gratitude not only makes us feel better, but it also makes us be better.
I think about Anne Frank, who spent the better part of her short life in hiding and then in Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. She wrote that despite everything she experienced, she still refused to dwell on her misery but instead focused on “the glory that remains.” I think of Nelson Mandela, imprisoned for more than a quarter-century, wanting to make sure that he had a chance to say thank you to the guards and staff at Victor Verster prison before he was released. If people like Anne Frank and Nelson Mandela can maintain gratitude with such grace, surely so can we all.
