The formula of gratitude

What is the formula for a happy life? What are the variables? How do things like gratitude and expectations factor in?

In his essay, The Structure of Gratitude, David Brooks says:

I’m sometimes grumpier when I stay at a nice hotel. I have certain expectations about the service that’s going to be provided. I get impatient if I have to crawl around looking for a power outlet, if the shower controls are unfathomable, if the place considers itself too fancy to put a coffee machine in each room. I’m sometimes happier at a budget motel, where my expectations are lower, and where a functioning iron is a bonus and the waffle maker in the breakfast area is a treat.

Included in, The Way of Gratitude, Readings for a Joyful Life.

He concludes that “Gratitude happens when some kindness exceeds expectations, when it is undeserved.” So, maybe as a formula it would look like “If kindness>expectations= gratitude.” So are our expectations the linchpin variable. To be happy and grateful, we should keep our expectations low? Or is there more to it?

He notes that there are some people who are ‘dispositionally’ grateful:

These people may have big ambitions, but they have preserved small anticipations. As most people get on in life and earn more status, they often get used to more respect and nicer treatment. But people with dispositional gratitude take nothing for granted. They take a beginner’s thrill at a word of praise, at another’s good performance or at each sunny day. These people are present-minded and hyper-responsive. This kind of dispositional gratitude is worth dissecting because it induces a mentality that stands in counterbalance to the mainstream threads of our culture. We live in a capitalist meritocracy. This meritocracy encourages people to be self-sufficient–masters of their own fate. But people with dispositional gratitude are hyperaware of their continual dependence on others. They treasure the way they have been fashioned by parents, friends and ancestors who were in some ways their superiors. They’re glad the ideal of individual autonomy is an illusion.

Included in, The Way of Gratitude, Readings for a Joyful Life

What a powerful way to look at things. In a very real sense, people with dispositional gratitude are able to see behind the veil into a truer, richer reality, full of wonder and generosity beyond anything any one of us deserves or merits. They are witnesses to the abundance we all share but few notice. Any one of us is capable of dropping our expectations and stepping into a magical world full of abundance if only we have the eyes to see.

The art of receiving.

Are you good at receiving? Giving often comes naturally, but receiving can be challenging. The mom who wears the pasta necklace and hangs the cotton puff ornament on the tree is sending a powerful message that her child matters, that she loves their thoughtfulness, and that she is honored and grateful to receive their gifts.

The host who immediately opens a guest’s gift of wine and serves it is saying that they value their guests’ choices and are welcoming their contributions to the synergistic experience that is a social gathering.

Henri Nouwen offers this powerful insight:

When someone gives us a watch but we never wear it, that watch is not really received. When someone offers us an idea but we do not respond to it, that idea is not truly received. When someone introduces us to a friend but we ignore him or her, that friend does not feel well received.

Receiving is an art. It means allowing the other to become part of our lives. It means daring to become dependent on the other. It asks for the inner freedom to say, “Without you I wouldn’t be who I am.” Receiving with the heart is, therefore, a gesture of humility and love. So many people have been deeply hurt because their gifts were not well received. Let us be good receivers.

Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey

These words cause us to pause and consider. Are we good receivers? Do we value those gifts and those givers in a way that causes us to open up and expand our walls, and even, perhaps, our sense of self? Can we give up our need to be in control and let our defenses down enough that others around us can share in the very creation of our lives?

Doing things for the joy of doing them

When we were kids, we didn’t worry too much about whether we were the best at coloring or pretend or sports. We did things because they were fun and filled us with joy. Later, somehow, we became worried about whether we should continue when we were never going to be competitive in it. We worried about how we looked, whether we would be mocked. Perhaps our parents decided lessons were a waste because we weren’t the stand out they had hoped we would be. The fun of it got lost and gave way to the competition in it.

That’s a shame. Author Kurt Vonnegut had an epiphany about this that changed his life:

When I was 15, I spent a month working on an archeological dig. I was talking to one of the archeologists one day during our lunch break and he asked those kinds of ‘getting to know you’ questions you ask young people: Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject? And I told him, no I don’t play any sports. I do theater, I’m in choir, I play the violin and piano, I used to take art classes.

“And he went wow. That’s amazing! And I said, ‘Oh no, but I’m not any good at any of them.’

“And he said something then that I will never forget and which absolutely blew my mind because no one had ever said anything like it to me before: ‘I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.’

“And that honestly changed my life. Because I went from a failure, someone who hadn’t been talented enough at anything to excel, to someone who did things because I enjoyed them. I had been raised in such an achievement-oriented environment, so inundated with the myth of Talent, that I thought it was only worth doing things if you could ‘win’ at them.

That’s such a liberating mind shift. Doing things for the joy of them! Not the achievement in them. Not the value to your college application. Not the resume value or the competition.

The joy! Imagine that.

We are made for welcome

When we are being welcoming, the focus is outward not inward. We look to what would make the other person comfortable, not what would make us comfortable. We don’t invite vegetarians, and then serve meat. Or teetotalers and serve alcohol. We get out of our own perspective and walk in the guest’s shoes to consider what would make them comfortable.

Aesop illustrated this premise with the Tale of the Fox and the Stork:

A fox invites a stork to eat with him and provides soup in a bowl, which the fox can lap up easily; however, the stork cannot drink it with its beak. The stork then invites the fox to a meal, which is served in a narrow-necked vessel. It is easy for the stork to access but impossible for the fox. The moral drawn is that the trickster must expect trickery in return and that the golden rule of conduct is for one to do to others what one would wish for oneself.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fox_and_the_Stork

The same is true, presumably, when welcoming people to the Lord’s table. What would make others comfortable? How can you reach more people? What about the way you do things might be off putting? How can you step out of your own perspective to consider what would make others in the community feel welcomed and comfortable? Our job isn’t to be a bar to spreading the word but a conduit.

Desmond Tutu talks about the importance of a broad welcome:

We are made for goodness. We are made for love. We are made for friendliness. We are made for togetherness. We are made for all of the beautiful things that you and I know. We are made to tell the world that there are no outsiders. All are welcome: black, white, red, yellow, rich, poor, educated, not educated, male, female, gay, straight, all, all, all. We all belong to this family, this human family, God’s family.

Mistake police

In this world of constant scrutiny and omnipresent recordings, mistakes seem to have moved from a necessary part of learning to an instant cause for condemnation.

We can all think back to learning to walk and talk or play a sport where the mistakes were a part of learning. Fear of falling down would keep everyone from walking. In order to learn how to make a basket, lots of shots will bounce off the rim and backboard.

When we moved on to raising children, focusing on the mistakes could cripple a child emotionally. Instead, we celebrated the steps forward, the successes. Noted the progress. We don’t expect a toddler to write a dissertation. We celebrate the milestones as they come.

I wonder if that approach would help move our troubled world forward. Celebrating the progress. Looking for the successes. Embracing the common ground. Letting everyone feel that they can continue to learn from their mistakes, that that is part of being human. A world with a little bit of breathing room. We all will mess up. We can show each other grace when we do.

Being the Hero of Your Own Life

When we think about our own personal heroes, can we see a pattern? How did they rise to the challenges presented in their day?

How are we rising to the occasions and the challenges presented in our time? Right now. Are there injustices we can speak up against? Are there places where our voices will make a difference? What are the rights and wrongs happening right now today?

I am about one-fourth of the way through Charles Dickens’s, David Copperfield. It’s astonishingly good, as are most of his books. And, like others, it calls out some of the injustices of his day—child labor, poorhouses, domestic violence, emotional cruelty, sexism, bullying and so on. With his wide audience and engaging stories, he had tremendous power and is credited for being the impetus for many social justice reforms.

However, he had his own blind spots.

One reader, Eliza Davis, wrote to him, accusing him of portraying her people, those of Jewish ancestry, in stereotypical and negative ways. She cited Fagin, from Oliver Twist, a cruel and selfish man teaching young street urchins to steal. Eliza begged him to show more complexity in his Jewish characters.

Dickens was unimpressed.

Dear Mr. Dickens, By Nancy Churnin

However, taking a page from Dickens’ own, Christmas Carol and the transformation of Ebenezer Scrooge, Eliza wrote him again:

Dear Mr. Dickens, by Nancy Churnin

And this time, Dickens was moved. And changed. From then on, his Jewish characters were complex and kind, and the exchange between Eliza and Dickens is credited for having a part in reducing anti-Semitic views and laws of the day.

Eliza had the same tools at hand as Dickens himself: pen, paper, and a keen sense of justice. While she lacked his fame, she made up for it by essentially teaming with him to bring about change.

What are the injustices of our day? It can be challenging to see them, sometimes, because we’ve been so steeped in things the way they are, that they seem normal. But if we pretend we are explaining our world to an alien, for instance, we might be hard-pressed to answer some of their questions. It is in those places, those places we know to be wrong, that we can strive to be the heroes of our own lives.

Facing fear

Standing up to fear changes a person. It helps you to put matters in perspective. Where once fear loomed over you, insurmountable, now you can honor the courage it took to move past it into unfamiliar territory.

Eleanor Roosevelt was a courageous woman. Despite her husband’s attempts to placate the South, she regularly bucked segregation and was a vocal proponent of civil rights. She was able to call out racism and force others to see it for what it was:

By 1939, ER decided to attack the hypocritical way in which the nation dealt with racial injustice. She wanted her fellow citizens to understand how their guilt in “writing and speaking about democracy and the American way without consideration of the imperfections within our system with regard to its treatment . . . of the Negro” encouraged racism. Americans, she told Ralph Bunche in an interview for Gunnar Myrdal’s American Dilemma, wanted to talk “only about the good features of American life and to hide our problems like skeletons in the closet.” Such withdrawal only fueled violent responses; Americans must therefore recognize “the real intensity of feeling” and “the amount of intimidation and terrorization” racism promotes and act against such “ridiculous” behavior.

You can’t clearly see a problem before you if you are too scared to look at it and call it out for what it is. Where are the injustices in your immediate orbit? Are there people being treated unfairly? How can you add your voice to help identify the problem and move toward healing? These problems are right here, close to home.

As Eleanor Roosevelt said:

Where after do human rights begin? In small places, close to home– so close and so small that they cannot be seen on any map of the world. Yet they are the world of the individual person: The neighborhood he lives in; the school or college he attends; the factory, farm or office where he works. Such are the places where every man, woman, and child seeks equal justice, equal opportunity, equal dignity without discrimination. Unless these rights have meaning there, they have little meaning anywhere. Without concerted citizen action to uphold them close to home, we shall look in vain for progress in the larger world.

-“Remarks at the United Nations,” March 27, 1958

https://erpapers.columbian.gwu.edu/quotations-eleanor-roosevelt

Fear is a crippler. It keeps you rooted in a course of action you know to be wrong. Focusing on the fear helps it to loom even larger before you. Instead, focus on the better world you are trying to help build. Spreading love and justice is exciting and uplifting. Being part of something bigger than yourself, working for a common goal, in an effort to improve people’s circumstance is rewarding.

You don’t have to see the whole path in front of you. Take, and keep taking, that next step forward.

Compassion for animals.

Apparently, today is World Penguin Day which reminded me of this delightful story about penguin JinJing and the man who saved his life. Each year, this little penguin swims 5000 miles to be with his friend.

So much is beyond our understanding including heart-warming stories like this about the bonds between a wild animal and a human who showed them kindness.

Enjoy this video.

Our last chance to be alive.

Now is our time to be alive. It will not come again. This is our last chance to savor nature and all of its wonder, to spend time with loved ones, to do good, to spread joy. This is it. This is our opportunity.

In the movie, Michael, an angel comes to Earth to influence the course of events. He, apparently, smells of cookies. But there is a scene, after ‘battle’ (he’s that kind of angel), when he is savoring the day. He is soaking it in, just enjoying being corporeal, waltzing with the breeze.

If only we could hold on to that wonder, awe, and appreciation, live in the moment, truly appreciate all we’ve been given here. What a fine world that would be.

Welcome with a smile

Have you been somewhere new recently? Maybe somewhere where everyone knows each other but you? Was there someone there who made you feel welcome?

When we remember what it feels like to be an outsider, we realize how powerful a warm welcome is. How generous the welcomer was to look outside of their usual orbit to notice a stranger and invite them in. A smile is the first step.

For today, consider this lovely poem on smiles and consider who you might welcome. How lucky you are to be in the position to welcome another!