I can pinpoint the exact point in time when my relationship with Gratitude started getting really serious and I was ready to commit. We started out simple - thankfulness a few times a year at marked holidays, routine thank you notes for gifts at birthdays and celebrations; pedestrian and predictable words of thanks for the very obvious “good” or material things I had going on at whatever point in time - to something a little more complicated, a little more deep. But, like most things worth having, Gratitude and I were first challenged by different tests, questioned and doubted for sincerity and validity, and put through many paces before we could grow into something as reassuring and consistent as a morning’s cup of awakening, rich, strongly brewed coffee. But that, of course, is where our relationship first truly began.
So many blue moons ago - as in, long enough in the past and countless lessons ago that I cannot fully appreciate anymore that this happened in the same lifetime nor remember this period of my life now as anything short of a gift - I was shaken deeply to my core and undeniably banged up from a fairly traumatizing, psychologically and emotionally-abusive, financially-depleting and bordering-on-violent relationship that had lasted for four ‘physical’ years - and many more ‘figurative’ ones as it trickled into new lifetimes and showed up as a test and a springboard at every turn to release its powerful hold on me and offer me the opportunity to shift into a more confident, authentic, genuine and soulful version of myself (Thank You!)
It was during the aftermath, a few rings out from the eye of the storm, that I was sitting alone on a beach in Toronto considering how I was going to move forward, begin the healing and start surviving things a lot less than I had become accustomed to doing. I did not really know where I was going to start or what my first step would be. While I did not have much financial access to therapeutic resources, I had even less knowledge of where I could go for help and most paramount, I had zero recognition at that time that I even needed some type of formal support. But the concept of gratitude was on the rise (well, at the time it probably felt like a “trend” that maybe Oprah had granted with her ‘golden touch’ on her talk show but now, in hindsight, I can see the universe was bringing me exactly what I needed at that point in time as gratitude is not exactly a new concept nor a passing fad) - and I was curious enough to see if this was something I could use in my life to light me out of a darker corner and to feel ‘differently’ about the way things were unfolding. So that day way back before settling in the sand and sunshine with a blanket and a coffee, I decided to spend a little money on a very thick, hardcover coral-flower-patterned gratitude journal after standing in the stationary section at Chapter’s looking at different journals and trying to feel like I was just a young person enjoying a simple, carefree day alone - a motion I went through a lot back then cautiously knowing (no, that’s only hindsight that knows this) but definitely hoping that eventually, it would be much less a motion or act and a more unfeigned and natural way of being.
It seemed simple enough - all you had to do was make it a habit to list a few things you were grateful for everyday - morning or night and that was it. Then you would be a deeply grateful person, see the beauty not just in the obvious things but in the harder, more challenging parts of life and be on your way to living as a far more fulfilled, happier; more enlightened being.
What could I write at that time that had actual meaning for me, would not sound like a list on a Thanksgiving placemat made when I was 6 years old and was far less glaring than the things I knew I should be grateful for like, I don’t know - being alive - my family, my few close friends left in the aftermath, a rent-free and more importantly - loving roof over my head, my cat, etc.. What was I actually, genuinely and without obligations or assumptions of any kind grateful for at that moment, right there, sitting with myself and a heaping pile of issues (read: gifts) to sort through? It was not as simple as I thought - not if I wanted to be honest in how I was feeling in that exact moment. (Sidenote: It can be really hard to write with hindsight as I don’t always properly remember then versus now and time on the journey has had a way of softening and altering my memories of things. What I might write about in my moments of gratitude today may be more or less profound but my early forays into the world of feeling truly grateful seem more simplistic and constructed to today’s perceived increased awareness in and awe of the gifts of the universe).
I considered this as I brought the mug of strongly percolated coffee to my lips (I can still hear that metal thing rattling and popping away on my mom’s stovetop), glad to be able to enjoy something warm, soothing and no-frills out of a traveller mug that my mom had given to me - probably as a “just because” gift because she thought I could use a ‘lift’. And there it was - quiet, pure and totally authentic gratitude for a mug of coffee (and here’s hindsight talking - for being “free” and alone in the sun on a beach) and from there, Gratitude and my relationship really began.
“Coincidentally”, I can mark many happy, genuine and completely aligned journeys and people in my life with a variety of mugs and cups of coffee. Special mugs that get brought out for different seasons from my mom, mugs from students that still make me smile at their quirky messages (“Best Teacher Ever” - that David put hockey tape over when we first switched to virtual learning and wrote with Sharpie “Homeschool Teacher” over the teacher part so I’d laugh at - and not cry - at our odd new circumstance at the start of the pandemic), gifts from friends who know how much I like a good “message-anything” (hats, t-shirts, bracelets...my first YETI mug was engraved with my name on it and still makes me smile daily) and a husband who loves mugs almost as much as me and collects one every place he travels and brings them home for us to switch in and out of the cupboard when we get bored or need a change from the old ones.
I have also marked almost every cup of coffee since that day alone on the beach with a note or quick prayer of thanks - for life unfolding the way it will, for all being well - and - for the coffee.
Like most relationships, mine and Gratitude’s is sometimes grand and sweeping, overwhelming or hard to reach, sometimes distant or right up in my face. But mostly, it feels uncomplicated and beautifully habitual. Sort of like a cup of coffee. ✌🏽❤️ ☕️