Step 1: Before trying to give thanks, forgive <fill in the blank> for whatever they’ve done/not done and/or whatever you think they’ve done/not done. It actually doesn’t make a difference which one it is. Just forgive them. That doesn’t mean whatever they’ve done/not done was ok. But not forgiving them is toxic.
Step 2: Go outside. It doesn’t matter if it’s raining/snowing/sunny/whatever. Go outside and look up at the sky and for just one moment, truly get how insignificant each and every one of us are. We’re like little bugs crawling all over this planet. Keep it all in perspective. I mean ALL of it.
Step 3: Look in the mirror. Really look. See that person staring back at you? You’re stuck with them for the rest of your life. Smile at the person in the mirror. Be nice to them. Now remember how you are the author of your own life. You get to decide how it all turns out. Even if you’re just a bug on the planet.
Step 4: Take an 8 oz glass and put 4 oz of water in it. Look at the glass. It is half full. Remember that it is half full. Drink the water. It’s much easier to be thankful when you’re hydrated.
Step 5: Be thankful. Just do it. Be thankful. It’s not really difficult. It’s a choice. Like forgiving. Like consciously being humble or remembering to love yourself or staying hydrated and optimistic. Be thankful.
Personally, I’m thankful for my family, friends, clients, and colleagues; so grateful that I have such amazing people in my life. Now, tell me something that you’re thankful for.
Sending happy Thanksgiving thoughts your way, my lovelies!
THE PLACE GRATITUDE FILLS IN A FINE CHARACTER
From the Philadelphia Press, Nov. 27, 1884
by Walt Whitman
Scene.—A large family supper party, a night or two ago, with voices and laughter of the young, mellow faces of the old, and a by-and-by pause in the general jovialty. “Now, Mr. Whitman,” spoke up one of the girls, “what have you to say about Thanksgiving? Won’t you give us a sermon in advance, to sober us down?” The sage nodded smilingly, look’d a moment at the blaze of the great wood fire, ran his forefinger right and left through the heavy white moustache that might have otherwise impeded his voice, and began: “Thanksgiving goes probably far deeper than you folks suppose. I am not sure but it is the source of the highest poetry—as in parts of the Bible. Ruskin, indeed, makes the central source of all great art to be praise (gratitude) to the Almighty for life, and the universe with its objects and play of action.
“We Americans devote an official day to it every year; yet I sometimes fear the real article is almost dead or dying in our self-sufficient, independent Republic. Gratitude, anyhow, has never been made half enough of by the moralists; it is indispensable to a complete character, man’s or woman’s—the disposition to be appreciative, thankful. That is the main matter, the element, inclination—what geologists call the trend. Of my own life and writings I estimate the giving thanks part, with what it infers, as essentially the best item. I should say the quality of gratitude rounds the whole emotional nature; I should say love and faith would quite lack vitality without it. There are people—shall I call them even religious people, as things go?—who have no such trend to their disposition.”