THANKFUL THURSDAY by ZEBRAFINCH (guest blogger)

All too lately, I have been creating thankfulness resting spots, times, vessels and instruments in life. I have been seeking ways to rebuild my life from the heart up and out. Thankfulness is one way to do this. This blog’s “Thankful Thursday” is a sanctuary for the process. In it, gratitude can seek out its rhythm and expansion, become increasingly available and, I hope, respiratory.  

There has been plenty in my life for which to be grateful. I haven’t read much about thankfulness, but I know a lot has been written about it. I’ve had some hard lessons in it. I wonder why I don’t feel it quite a lot more. I wonder if I block thankfulness continually without even realizing it.

If being thankful is defined simply as being “conscious of benefit received,” I also think of it as response. I rarely show it in tangible ways, to my great regret. Today, reflecting on thankfulness, I was surprised by questions that flooded my mind:

What do I notice when goodness comes my way?

When do I notice it?

What does it feel like?

Do I feel it or simply acknowledge it?

Do I express anything in response?

How do I express it?

Why does it take me so long to express it?

Will being grateful make anything or anyone better?

How can I make thankfulness last?

How is gratitude different from or the same as love?

Where do I begin or stop the feeling of thankfulness or start feeling something else?

Goodness, the questions seemed designed to keep me from ever actually being thankful.

I decided to express thankfulness at certain times and to create the places in which to do that. Otherwise, as a friend had taught me, how would I hold the value of thankfulness? Would thankfulness otherwise be too ephemeral? Then, I would build bridges between those moments and places one expression at a time, until a solid pathway could be etched into my heart.

First, I needed a spot for tactile reminder. Short of having a forest, mountain or beach handy, I decided that my spot could still feel like a natural chapel. Removed from nature by an illness and “shoebox” city living, I chose my alcove desk. I devoted that space to gratitude (and to my work). It is the last thing I see in the morning, and the first thing I see upon returning home. As I walk in my front door, I see the glowing alcove with a clean writing surface, paper and pen waiting, colour and imagery that makes my heart happy. It “bookends” my day’s experiences. I began to use that space as my anchor for appreciation.

Then, I needed a time. Every night, or when I remember to do it, I began to use Twitter to express a few words of evening gratitude. These things belong in journals. Is it a vain, navel gazing exercise to say them aloud? I wonder. I benefit from the grateful words of others.

With those beginnings, I hope gratitude will become my first response to literally everything. Not in a sentimental way, but in a natural way, assuming that the highest good for all is manifesting before my eyes. Easier said than done for me. Today, I am thankful for this blog. It is a gentle invitation to reconnect with my own heart, and, I hope, a more loving exchange with life.