Gratitude.
The great aphorist G.K. Chesterton wrote that gratitude is “happiness doubled by wonder.” John Quincy Adams, our sixth president, said that gratitude “fills the soul to overflowing and scarcely leaves room for any other sentiment or thought. “ Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor, thought that their depths of gratitude could define people, and Catholic philosopher Jacque Maritain thought it the “most exquisite form of courtesy.” In the movie Patch Adams, Patch (Robin Williams) says “At the age of 18, I made up my mind never to have another bad day in my life. I dove into an endless sea of gratitude from which I’ve never emerged.”
The great aphorist G.K. Chesterton wrote that gratitude is “happiness doubled by wonder.” John Quincy Adams, our sixth president, said that gratitude “fills the soul to overflowing and scarcely leaves room for any other sentiment or thought. “ Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor, thought that their depths of gratitude could define people, and Catholic philosopher Jacque Maritain thought it the “most exquisite form of courtesy.” In the movie Patch Adams, Patch (Robin Williams) says “At the age of 18, I made up my mind never to have another bad day in my life. I dove into an endless sea of gratitude from which I’ve never emerged.”
Gratitude is one of the most vital of sentiments, yet one of the most neglected. Many Americans forget that they live in a time and place never imagined by those who came before them. Given the freedom to become commanders of their own fate, these people prefer instead to be victims, blaming their circumstances on everything from their race to their treatment by their mothers or fathers. They whinge and whine, attribute their troubles on others, and find little good in the life swirling round them. They become inmates in prisons they themselves have built, penitentiaries whose walls and barred windows are constructed from ingratitude.
Contrarily, gratitude is the boon companion to happiness. True happiness—not that fleeting sensation spawned by some achievement or by some advantage temporarily gained, but heart-felt, deep-down happiness—surely walks hand-in-hand with gratitude. I have known people, and heard of others, who each morning on waking turn their thoughts to three or four things for which they are thankful. These can be as grand as the appreciation of a loving wife, as ordinary as an anticipated cup of coffee. Whatever the case, they center their day on a feast of thanksgiving and appreciation.
If you’re feeling down or lost, as I sometimes do, emotions that the holidays often exacerbate, I invite you to join me in a simple experiment testing the claims of these people. Let’s make our own “gratitude” lists, and read over them each morning to kick off the day. The list can be long or short—I am keeping mine at seven items or less, each point succinctly worded—and can be changed at will. I plan to run my experiment until the first of the year, at which point the exercise will either become a valuable part of my daily routine or bite the dust as a waste of time.
What can it hurt?
And if by chance you are having trouble starting such a list, let me kick it off with something for which nearly all of us are grateful.
We are alive.
Recently, a reporter writing for a magazine I enjoy asked an astronomer whether he believed aliens from deep space would ever come to earth. The astronomer said that even if such aliens existed, the odds were extremely unlikely that we might receive such a visit. (I have paraphrased both the question and the answer.)
“Why is that?” the interviewer asked.
“I don’t think they could find us,” the astronomer replied. “Space is just too big.”
And yet here we are, whirling around one star among billions of stars, a little green planet lost in space, a dot in the universe, living and breathing on a tiny globe filled with life, a miracle of design and beauty.
Riding the planet, looking at the morning stars, and drinking my first cup of coffee will be number one on my list.
Contrarily, gratitude is the boon companion to happiness. True happiness—not that fleeting sensation spawned by some achievement or by some advantage temporarily gained, but heart-felt, deep-down happiness—surely walks hand-in-hand with gratitude. I have known people, and heard of others, who each morning on waking turn their thoughts to three or four things for which they are thankful. These can be as grand as the appreciation of a loving wife, as ordinary as an anticipated cup of coffee. Whatever the case, they center their day on a feast of thanksgiving and appreciation.
If you’re feeling down or lost, as I sometimes do, emotions that the holidays often exacerbate, I invite you to join me in a simple experiment testing the claims of these people. Let’s make our own “gratitude” lists, and read over them each morning to kick off the day. The list can be long or short—I am keeping mine at seven items or less, each point succinctly worded—and can be changed at will. I plan to run my experiment until the first of the year, at which point the exercise will either become a valuable part of my daily routine or bite the dust as a waste of time.
What can it hurt?
And if by chance you are having trouble starting such a list, let me kick it off with something for which nearly all of us are grateful.
We are alive.
Recently, a reporter writing for a magazine I enjoy asked an astronomer whether he believed aliens from deep space would ever come to earth. The astronomer said that even if such aliens existed, the odds were extremely unlikely that we might receive such a visit. (I have paraphrased both the question and the answer.)
“Why is that?” the interviewer asked.
“I don’t think they could find us,” the astronomer replied. “Space is just too big.”
And yet here we are, whirling around one star among billions of stars, a little green planet lost in space, a dot in the universe, living and breathing on a tiny globe filled with life, a miracle of design and beauty.
Riding the planet, looking at the morning stars, and drinking my first cup of coffee will be number one on my list.