Gratitude as a practice...

I was fortunate enough to inherit my mother's optimism, so keeping an "attitude of gratitude" has been a recovery tool that is fairly easy to practice. Not every day, not all the time, but generally speaking, I am an optimistic and grateful person, very aware that my story could've gone either way during those dark days of addiction. I survived. No, I've thrived, and for that I am thankful every day.

I do, however, carry around the remnants of growing up in an alcoholic household where I learned to see around corners and anticipate what was coming next. In my world, predictable equaled safety. I am not one who readily embraces ambivalence with a sense of adventure. I will dive in, eventually, but only after testing the waters with one toe and then another.

These feel like uncertain times. The scared little kid that still lives somewhere inside of me is nervous. Whichever side(s) of the recent election you were on, what happens next seems to be up in the air. It will be different. It is different, and the not-knowing has me wobbling between fear and confusion with a desire to pay attention to every detail as meted out by various sources, or to hide under the covers. Neither is particularly helpful, but is where I go in my efforts to find a balance point.

What I can do instead is step back from the fray with compassion for myself and others, and take a moment to remind myself of all that I am grateful for: that I didn't die with a needle in my arm, or behind the wheel of a car, that I have a strong marriage with a sober man, that I enjoy my workplace, that I have a steady connection with "God as I understand God," that my family and friends are healthy. On this eve of Thanksgiving I can pause, bring in my scattered energies, and breathe as I look at the branches against the sky, the fallen leaves gathering at my door.

We had a counselor when I was in treatment who would sometimes say, "What day is it? What time is it?" Once answered,  she would further ask, "Do you have a place to sleep tonight? Have you had enough to eat today?" which was her way of saying that I have all that I need. I can feel blown about by outside circumstances, but in reality, I am blessed beyond measure. I weep for those who do not have the basic safety that I so often take for granted and I am keenly aware that my gratitudes are those of privilege. I ask, each day, to be shown how I can be of service to those in my circle and the wider world. Show me, God, how to navigate, one day at a time.

On this Thanksgiving, I appreciate you and the conversations that these writings prompt, either in your posted remarks, emails, or face-to-face. We have each other, on this "road of happy destiny" that sometimes feels a bit rocky. Gratitude as a practice reminds me of the "we" of our recovery program, and that the "we" extends to all beings.   Peace be with you, today and always.