Like many, I’ve felt particularly weighed down by the world’s woundedness lately. The gulp of anxiety that comes with every news ping or social media notification has shown me how easy it is to get caught up in what’s hard or depressing or demanding my attention — and forget to appreciate what’s going well, what’s beautiful or what gives me hope.
Recently, I sat down to make a list of things I’ve been grateful for over the past few months. The list was long and amusingly wide-ranging (some excerpts: my infant son’s growth and development, Oreos, the crossing guard in front of the library who waves at every car, Taylor Swift, aid workers risking their lives to feed the hungry, my toddler’s ABCs obsession, the sunset view from our deck), and I felt my mood shift almost immediately.
As we move through the fall when themes of giving thanks are at the forefront, I find myself asking, what does gratitude look like when life is hard, or when the weight of the world seems especially heavy? How can gratitude help me and so many others emerge from a place of negativity, anxiety or grief?
St. Ignatius of Loyola, of course, has some ideas. Gratitude is a core virtue in Ignatian spirituality. It was so central to Ignatius’ life after his conversion that he went so far as to call ingratitude “the most abominable of sins” in a letter to one of his future companions. Ignatius’ strong words demonstrate gratitude’s importance to his theology and understanding of relationship with God. Whether praying through the daily Examen or the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius insists on always beginning with gratitude — noticing where God is working in our lives and establishing that thankfulness as the foundation for prayer.
If we think about it in construction terms, pouring a foundation of gratitude gives us a solid footing to stand on and prevents us from, well, sinking too deep in the mud. Noticing where God’s gifts and graces fill our lives doesn’t mean that we ignore what’s going poorly — it just prevents us from being consumed by despair. Being thankful for God at work in our lives helps us to embrace our blessings and unlocks a strength that encourages us to keep going.
Thinking more about gratitude encouraged me to revisit a book I had read more than 10 years ago. In “Help Thanks Wow: The Three Essential Prayers,” writer Anne Lamott shares that the grace that results from actively practicing gratitude can help us build resilience. “Grace can be the experience of a second wind, when even though what you want is clarity and resolution, what you get is stamina and poignancy and the strength to hang on.”
I love the idea of building resilience through gratitude, not only when I could truly use a second wind after a busy day working and caring for an infant and toddler, but also when I, like so many others, am crying out for answers and resolutions to the world’s ills. With each step we take in gratitude, we can build our strength and stamina to move forward in hope while still letting our hearts be cracked open to others.
Both St. Ignatius and Anne Lamott were on to something. When gratitude changes our hearts, it also changes the way we act. We become more willing to give our time or resources to someone else. We’re more patient. Less stuck. More loving.
Since my gratitude breakthrough, I’ve been trying to pray the Examen more regularly, or at the very least, take a few moments at the end of the day to quickly name what I’m thankful for. Reestablishing a gratitude practice doesn’t take any responsibilities off of my full plate, and it certainly isn’t a cure-all for suffering in the world, but it does strengthen my connection with God and inspires me to share what brings me joy and hope with others.
With the help of St. Ignatius, that’s the type of gratitude practice I hope to cultivate — one that allows God’s light to pierce through the darkness or difficulties of the present moment and reveal a sure and certain hope for what’s to come.
