Remember back in the nineties
when books about gratitude were all the rage? We were encouraged to be grateful
every day for something. Even—and maybe especially—something small (the smell
of the garden, a bubble bath, a fresh strawberry, a good cup of coffee, etc). Then
we were reminded to think of the people and events around us for which we were
grateful. On bad days, this might be more difficult, but for just about all of
us, there is definitely someone out there in whose light we can revel for a few
grateful moments.
The philosophy behind this
practice was that if we did that small bit of work every day then we would
slowly, inevitably, shift the colours of our lives until that lovely rosy hue
would outshine the dark. I never ended up reading the bestselling books, but I
certainly listened rapt as those who did expounded on the theory. It made
sense. And I started to become aware of my own gratitude and how deeply I felt
it and how, in many ways, gratitude was one of the most consistently achievable feelings of “good” that I
could attain. Even on a really shitty day.
I am truly grateful that
gratitude has been a consistent theme on this blog and that our readers so
quickly and readily jump on the “gratitude bandwagon” whenever we bring it up.
So I hope you don’t mind if I revisit it one more time??? I want to share a
small experience with you and then see where we land afterward:
For my birthday dinner, we
went to an amazing little restaurant called Keriwa Café. It is a cozy little place,
the kind that makes you feel very much like you’ve walked into a (stylish) friend’s
farmhouse kitchen. The air is perfumed like a warm smokehouse and you picture
not a bland city alley outside its kitchen doors, but a vast farmland, filled
with all things good and clean and delicious. The server was a charming guy who
took amazing care of our every need, and who made us feel like we were already
on comfortable terms—maybe like he was the friend of a friend (ie not
overly-familiar, but also not cold and standoffish). The food was divine:
earthy and sophisticated in equal measure, sublime combinations of herbs and
sauces, and the absolute truth of flavour that comes from the freshest and best
quality ingredients. We were in raptures with every single mouthful, from the homemade
sourdough bread at the start (washed down with the loveliest signature
cocktails) to the gift of the airiest truffle I’ve ever eaten at the end. Now I’m
telling you all this not to try and sell my skills as a restaurant reviewer
(although, for me, that wouldn’t be the worst job!), but to underscore my point
about gratitude.
As we were eating, we shared
our sentiments with our server at every course. We mmmed and ahhhed and made
sure he knew that we thought everything was delicious and perfect. We weren’t
ridiculously effusive, but consistently grateful. And he was … surprised! Not
because we found the food wonderful—this restaurant is run by one of the best new
chefs in the city—but because we were sharing our love. On the drive home
afterward, Stefanie expressed her own sense of gratitude that we had taught her
how important it is to communicate gratitude if one truly feels it. She has
been able to see just how deeply it affects people, while also realizing—through
the sincere surprise at the restaurant—that this means it is maybe all too rarely
communicated. She reminded me again that, while she considers herself a fervent
foodie, she maybe wouldn’t have had the courage to rave. She is “too shy”. But
this experience—and others like it over her growing years—has taught her to
keep trying to work at sharing her gratitude. Because it literally makes everyone feel good.
So, if we’re going to revisit
this theme again, here’s what I’d love to hear from you:
1.
Are you
too shy to share your gratitude with strangers?
2.
If you
do share your gratitude, what is the response?
3.
And, how
do you feel when people express gratitude toward you?
Deb:
Well, you know me. Not too shy about anything. I share my gratitude easily and
frequently. I also share my gratitude silently in the morning and the evening
for a day lived and a day woken up to. When I share my gratitude I am ALWAYS
moved by people’s reactions. Always. Some are shy about it, some are gobsmacked
by it, but they are always grateful for it. When people express gratitude
towards me ... well ... hmmmnnn .... I am getting better. Much better. I am
starting to be able to look people in the eye and say how happy and grateful I
am for their gratitude. But that one remains the toughest. As I have said in
other posts, I love to be the bestower, not so much the bestowed upon. But I am
getting better. It is something I have worked really hard on. Grace is the word
I use when someone expresses their gratitude to me. Be graceful, I tell myself.
And it is working for me.
