“You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.” — G. K. Chesterton
Over the last few years, I’ve talked and written about my struggle to let go. Letting go involves constant reflection. The struggle is this: a constant tug and pull of realizing what is really important vs. complaining about everything that you “perceive” to be an irritation. There are many times when I feel the beat of gratitude, but still succumb to the pressure of focusing on what isn’t enough.
These last few weeks my mind has gravitated toward the loss of my friend Katy. My intersection with her and witnessing her grace has allowed me to reevaluate my approach to gratitude. I talk and write about gratitude, but I am not certain I’ve completely embraced it in the textures of my thoughts, actions, and words. A part of me is convinced that in order to let go involves developing a very close relationship to gratitude.
There are days when I can’t let go or feel that I am focused too much on the “wrong” things. My goal is to eliminate this thinking to a minimum. There are many days when I or you may feel nothing is right. But if we look, there are opportunities to give gratitude to small pleasures that inhabit our lives. For me I realize it is the thousand “I love you’s” from my daughter, the ability to watch the sunset behind the mountains, driving my car, and smelling the cup of coffee brewing in the morning. To the casual observer, these many seem trivial and part of a huge cliché, but they are important. I’ve witnessed, through my father and now through Katy, that these “trivial” opportunities can be taken away at any second.
Look around today. Celebrate the small pleasures in your life. Inhale them. Write it down. I am convinced letting go is actively practicing gratitude for every ordinary, trivial and mundane moment that encompasses your life.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
Living in gratitude is an ongoing process…it takes reminders, but it surely changes our focus. It is amazing all of the tiny extraordinary moments we witness.
You’re right, it does take work. I’ll try to focus on little gifts today.
Thank you for the reminder. I am grateful for so many things. Sometimes, I need to stop and remember that it’s those little things that add up to so much in my life.
I am convinced so too. They say the devil is in the details, but I’ve found that peace is in the details. And for me too, Rudri, it’s a daily practice.
I hear you, Rudri. I’ve struggled with this too. I’ve tried to make myself end each day by recounting the things that made me happy – small things – but that exercise lasted all of 2 days (several years ago). It often takes a loss for us to realize, as you did, that it is those small pleasures and privileges that can so easily be taken away. At this moment, with my accident, I will be so thrilled to simply be able to walk from one end of the room to another. Of course, before this happened, I took that privilege for granted. But it is never too late, and I’m glad you found this gift in the midst of such sadness.
Sometimes it does take “big” events to remind us of the importance of “small” things. A family crisis, a health scare, the loss of a loved one… terrible to live through, but so much perspective to be gained.
Great reminder, thank you Rudri. xoxo