This past Tuesday morning, I started my day teaching the sixth graders. We were zooming with kids in Israel to learn more about life there during coronavirus, and the entire class was just remarkable. The Israeli girl was poised and confident and interesting and funny, and the sixth graders were engaged and excited, asking incredibly thoughtful questions. I ended the class with so much gratitude for technology, for the opportunity to teach, and for the students in our school. Later that same day I experienced a series of very challenging events one after the other - a car accident on the 405, a near-empty gas tank in an unfortunate situation, and a long line for a routine COVID test. But while the afternoon certainly dampened my mood, the gratitude I felt that morning actually sustained me. I ended the day more content than I would have expected.
There is abundant research that a regular practice of gratitude can help us to feel happier and less depressed. Judaism elevates the practice of gratitude - we are to begin every morning by thanking God for returning our souls to our bodies. And gratitude is something we actively cultivate at Pressman Academy, whether it is our ECC students filling a gratitude jar or middle school students dedicating their Judaic Studies lesson to something for which they feel grateful. There is value - physically, spiritually, emotionally - in practicing gratitude routinely, and our children learn that gratitude is one lens with which to see the world.
But even as I write this, there’s a part of me that’s rolling my eyes. Gratitude - the week before Thanksgiving no less - is just so cliche. When the rug has been pulled out from under us, rote recitations of thankfulness just don’t ring true. I am not a fan of being grateful for the things we have simply because others don’t (as my dad used to say to me, “just because children in Africa are starving doesn’t mean you’re not hungry”) or because it’s not as bad as it could have been - I can acknowledge that my problems might be first world problems and still feel troubled by them. After all, we’re trapped at home during a global pandemic, while case numbers are rising, away from family and friends during a celebratory season, while the world burns around us. No need to whitewash with gratitude.
And yet, that’s not quite the full picture either - even in 2020. The Hallmark card notion of gratitude may not resonate, but the soul-filling feeling that comes along with seeing something delightful, and experiencing thanks for it, is very real. And while false cheerfulness strikes me as avoidance, it’s equally emotionally dishonest to fail to identify and acknowledge the moments in these days and weeks and months that deserve thanks.
So how do we practice gratitude authentically in what’s shaping up to be a long and dark winter? And how do we teach our children to practice gratitude without making it feel rote or repetitive?
First, we need to make room for gratitude in our own lives. This means we need to throw out our own expectations. There is a major difference between ‘I should be’ gratitude and real, spontaneous feelings of gratitude, the feelings that fill you up and make your heart feel like it’s growing larger. And as we throw out our expectations, we need to make emotional space for gratitude. Sarah Steckler, of Mindful Productivity, actually recommends that in addition to a gratitude list, we also keep a F@*k it list - a list of all the things that really bother us, things we can’t get un-angry about, things we wish would change. She writes, “I go WILD, no apologies, no worry over feeling guilty about being so ‘negative’ - I just let it ALL out.” With this list, she then crosses out the things that, now that it’s out, she can forget; she highlights the things still bugging her; and she makes plans to fix those that can be fixed.
Once we have the emotional bandwidth for gratitude, notice. Notice the things that do fill you up, not the things that you think should fill you up. In order to notice, we must be present. We don’t need to reserve our gratitude for the big events in our lives - the truth is that gratitude usually lives in the small, quiet contours of our days. It lives in the moments when our child says something clever to make us laugh, or we enjoy a moment of connection with a friend, or a neighbor drops off challah that they baked. Gratitude is not about looking for the silver linings in this difficult time - it’s about being present to notice when we experience a genuine warm moment of thankfulness.
And finally, consider how you bring this practice to your children. Like adults, there is abundant research that grateful children are happier, feel more optimistic, have better social support, are more satisfied with their school, family, community, friends, and themselves, and give more emotional support to others. So how do we help our children feel real gratitude, and not simply the laundry list of “my family and my home and my friends”?
As with all parenting, it’s about modeling and ritualizing and making explicit the behaviors we want to see: Express genuine gratitude to your children, for the time they gave you an unexpected hug or the joke that made you laugh after a hard day. Create gratitude rituals at home. For example, each Friday night, we go around the shabbat dinner table to share our “Rose and Thorn” - the rose is the good from our weeks while the thorn is that which disappointed us. (You can even do the “Rosebud” - the thing you’re looking forward to in the coming week. The pessimist in my house likes to include the thorn bud as well!). By modeling and naming, our children continue to learn how to incorporate this practice into their own worlds.
As we enter a week in which the messaging will be telling us to feel grateful, I want to charge us to reclaim gratitude, not as a cheesy moniker (#gratitudechallenge) but rather as something that can empower us and our children to lead richer lives even - maybe even especially - when life is tough. This is not counting our blessings. It’s not being Pollyannish or inauthentic or repressive. It is, however, staying attuned to the full range of human emotions and experiences - and recognizing and savoring the moments of joy along with those that are hard.
Wishing you all a happy and healthy Thanksgiving.