I remember watching a TED Talk once where the expert presented how her research has shown a simple and effective way to improve happiness and joy in our daily lives. Leaning forward with the anticipation of uncovering this magic pill to improve my life, I was surprised to hear that all we had to do was “wake up each day and consider five things to which we are grateful.” Sounds easy, right?
In my daily routine, however, Gratitude often falls to the wayside, replaced by seemingly more important tasks of paying credit card bills, checking email, getting the kids to school, responding to emails, bringing the kid’s lunch to school two hours later when he forgets it, and so on…
I took a walk recently to reflect on gratitude. Strolling around camp, taking in the crisp air and crunchy leaves I found myself grateful for a single Nalgene water bottle. It hangs on the limbs of an oak tree 20 feet above the driveway entering camp. It has been there since the summer. Bright pink, it stands out amidst the now bare limbs above. I had forgotten about this bottle, but when I saw it, I remembered it from the summer. I smiled imagining an excited camper tossing it a little too high. I remember the enthusiasm of Rainbow Tag, the AirBand performances, the belting of “Traveling Soldier” in the dining hall and the peaceful evenings falling asleep to the melodies of crickets and bullfrogs. I remember seeing it for the first time, and thinking “I wonder how long that will stay up there?” I remembered a truly great summer…
Moments like these serve as reminders to be grateful and to push back against a society built on the idea of more. Amidst a constant push for new products, services, and experiences, we rarely have the wisdom to enjoy what is right in front of us.
Ironically, we have this holiday of Thanksgiving where we are surrounded by those we love, and we choose to focus on all the surrounding goodness. Yet before the turkey leftovers are even in the fridge, people are lined up at Best Buy, Walmart, and Circuit City, waiting to shove some old lady out of the way for Black Friday deals to buy more. **For those of you reading this who are under 25, people used to go to stores to buy goods for Holiday Shopping. Also, Circuit City was an electronics store that went bankrupt in 2008. I went holiday shopping there once, thinking my dad said, “Circus City,” and I was highly disappointed to find no trapeze artists when I arrived.
The transition from gratitude to want happens quicker than a camper dumps the rolls on the table during Sunday lunch. We are thrust out of a place of peace back into the world telling us that we need the newest version of something, or that we’ll look, feel, or be so much better if we buy, subscribe, or take whatever it is they are selling.
A few weeks ago I was tempted to buy a new bike. Instagram ads pulled me deep into the myth that a new road bike would make me that much better. Then the wise words of my old cycling buddy, James , came into my head. He reluctantly said, “I got myself a new bike, (gestured to his legs) but unfortunately have the same motor.” In that moment, I gave thanks for the bike I had, and the opportunity I have to ride on some of the prettiest roads around. In that one moment, gratitude prevailed… barely.
In the Bible, we often hear “give thanks.” Psalm 107 begins by saying “O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, and His steadfast love endures forever.” Much will be given and received this holiday; some of it will be good, and a lot of it will be junk. Within all of it, let us give thanks—for this world, our lives, as messy as they might be, and even a hanging water bottle that serves as a reminder of the overflowing joy known in this place.
With so much gratitude,
Lucas