Thirty Days of Gratitude

Perhaps you have seen this meme on your Facebook feed this November. It has shown up on mine. My first feeling was that of conviction. In a way, this meme is representative of the way I function on Facebook. I vaguebook. Frequently. Many times, I'm responding emotionally to my feelings toward my job, which I do not feel I can freely express as I am Facebook friends with many of my coworkers. Other times, I cannot exactly pinpoint what I am feeling, except that I am not okay. For whatever reason, in those moments,  I want others to know that I'm not okay. And so no, the majority of the year, my Facebook feed is not filled with gratitude.

But, that doesn't mean I'm not grateful.

I repeat, the lack of gratitude on my Facebook does not mean I'm not grateful.

Now, the tone of this meme is sarcastic and sour-tongued, suggesting that the 30 Days of Gratitude is a facade or a mask that nasty, ungrateful curmudgeons put on each November. I'm not sure that is an accurate assessment. I'm not that person, but I do practice 30 Days of Gratitude. Here's the thing: I feel better when I'm grateful. I smile more. I feel like I have a better sense of where I exist in relation to nature and the rest of the world when I meet the world from a place of gratitude.

You see for me, gratitude is a practice. It's sort of like yoga. Some days, I can press my right foot into my left thigh in a perfect tree pose, while other times I feel like I'm going to fall on my face. I wish that I could say that I felt grateful every second of every minute of every day. I should. I have an overflowing abundance of blessings. My children are fed, my bed is warm, I have clean drinking water at my finger tips, my belly is full...I could go on.

But on the days when I start screwing up the moment my feet hit the floor...on the days when I feel like I am in a pressure cooker and that I cannot please anyone...on the days when my students throw tantrums and my children throw tantrums and I wash a Sharpie marker, and then a crayon, and then an Expo marker in the washing machine (true stories), it's hard for me to feel gratitude in those moments. It's not that I'm unhappy with my life; rather, I'm unhappy with myself and my own ineptitude. And I take those things to Facebook. Every. Stinkin. Time.

And so, I do practice the thirty days of gratitude. Once I start posting, I feel that I cannot stop. What would my Facebook friends, my pastor for one, think? And, while that's a lame reason to continue, it doesn't change the outcome: I feel blessed. It should not be a practice that lasts only thirty days. It should permeate my state of being, and maybe someday it will. But until then, I will practice.