The complexity of Thanksgiving

As I sat down to write a blog for this Thanksgiving, I found myself feeling guilty.  I considered a message that shared my gratitude for all that I am thankful for this year from the amazing adventures I had in Antarctica and Moab to the experience of training for the NY Marathon.  But as I wrote the words about how much I love my life, it began to feel awkward.  My mind shifted to those who might read this and are unable to find gratitude in their lives.  I almost felt ashamed of my happiness at a time when so many are suffering.

First, let me be clear, there’s nothing political about this.  People suffer daily no matter what goes on in the outside world.  The fact that much of it is in our face like never before is partly a function of our interaction with social media and the media at large.  The world has seen hate, violence, hunger, sickness, and sadness for as long as mankind has walked this planet.  And even if what we may choose to consume online is full of joy and happiness, there are those who are struggling not just this holiday but every holiday.

What this post is about is the enormously tough task of finding gratitude not just in what makes us smile, but in what hurts.

In last year’s Thanksgiving post, I wrote about the benefits of gratitude that are backed by science.  Ultimately, my concluding lesson was the following:

It turns out gratitude is like an invisible muscle.  The more we work it, the stronger we get.  And the stronger we get, the healthier we are.

As I look back on this lesson, it makes me feel less guilty for all that I am thankful for this year.  Not because of what’s on that list but because I appreciate the effort of finding gratitude in everything – the good and the bad.  In my life, I sit here as grateful for the agony of tearing my hamstring five days before the marathon as I am for the euphoria I experienced when jumping off a cliff.  I am grateful for the lessons each moment taught me.  The rope swing not only taught me about enjoying life, but it was another moment where I overcame a fear of the unknown.  The injury taught me to appreciate the fact that success is not automatic – even when you feel as if you earned it.  I’m grateful that I tried something hard, and I am truly thankful for the fact that I can try it again next year.

So, this Thanksgiving, I leave you with the approach that I am using to work out my gratitude muscles this year . . .

First, I consider the moments where I instinctively feel thankful because they brough me joy and happiness.  I rejoice in them and bask in the happiness for which I am thankful.  Often, these are the experiences we capture on film and can cherish forever . . .

Then I consider the moments where I struggled, and I try to find the silver lining.  Not every painful moment feels like it has one, and that’s ok.  But if there is something to cling to that gives hope for a better outcome, I work on that muscle.  Because finding gratitude where it is hardest is where we get stronger.  These moments are not usually captured in a photo.  Rather, they rest in our psyche.  The physical or emotional pain is invisible, but it is more profound than any happiness we find in our images of the good times.

For me, the most heartbreaking moment this year was when I could not find a comfortable position in which to rest shortly after my injury happened.  That was when it hit me as I first said the words, “I cannot run the marathon this year.”  I still get tearful when I think back to that moment.  But I am also grateful for it.  I’m grateful to have gotten so close that I had to cry over it.  I am grateful that it makes me appreciate how hard this is, not only when one doesn’t have the body for it as was my case in the past, but even when one has all the tools to do it, yet it just isn’t automatic.  I’m grateful to be healing and am thankful that I’ll soon be running again. I’m grateful for all the support I had this year as I trained and for the support that I’ll have at next year’s race.  And I’m most grateful for the fact that I can take this struggle and find such deep meaning in it that I will turn it into something that may better me in the future.

No doubt, I’m lucky that this was my most painful moment this year both physically and emotionally.  Finding gratitude in the hard stuff is not easy – even when the painful moment is nowhere near as heavy as what could be.  It’s ok not to be able to find something to be thankful for amid our sorrow.  It’s even ok not to want to.  But perhaps we can all at least hope for something in which we will soon find gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Aaron