Finding Gratitude When Things are Hard

It’s Thanksgiving week in the U.S., which means, for many, trips to see family, a big meal, and perhaps conversations about gratitude. I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of over it. Not the holiday itself – it’s my favorite, due to the food – but the incessant focus on being grateful. Do a quick online search and you’ll find countless posts on how “expressions of gratitude increases your happiness.” Frankly, this year, it feels a bit too simplistic.

It's a hard year for many people. From the war in Ukraine to the war in Gaza, from out-of-control prices and interest rates to ongoing poverty and food insecurity, from our cesspool of politics to our diminishing ability to talk to one another, it’s hard to find something for which to be grateful. And that doesn’t even include the things happening on a personal level. People have lost loved ones, are being bullied at work, have deteriorating relationships with friends and family. For many there is no Thanksgiving table to go to, no family to see. No amount of statements of gratitude is going to fix any of that.

As I wade through this writing and querying process, it can be hard to lose sight of gratitude, as well. The more you learn, the more you understand that it’s important to build a community online. And the more you do that, the more it feels like everyone else is making progress but you. The more you start to question your abilities and potential. The less grateful you feel.

And yet. I am grateful. I’m grateful I can write, afford a laptop, and have an internet connection. I’m grateful I have built a community of friends and critique partners who are even more excited than I am when good things happen, like an agent asking to see more pages. I’m grateful I have a job I mostly love. I’m grateful I don’t have family or friends who are dying in a war zone, like so many others do. I’m grateful I can wake up and go for a long, sweaty run, and then treat myself to Trader Joe’s dark chocolate peanut butter cups. I’m so grateful for fifty years on this earth. I’m grateful that there’s more to come.

Does saying all that fix all the hard things? Of course not. It’s a nice reminder to check my attitude. But it’s not some magic inoculation against pain, struggle, or hardship, no matter how big or small.

One of my favorite Thanksgiving memories is from my grandparents’ house in Georgia. One of my extended family members insisted we go around the table and say what we were thankful for, which was not a family tradition of ours. One by one people said the usual platitudes, until it reached my grandfather, who clearly was over it. “I’m thankful for chicken,” he said, and got up and left the room. My aunt, who had spent the better part of the day helping to cook the meal, stared at her plate for a long moment, then said, “Are we having chicken?” And that was the end of that. For which I was incredibly grateful.

Gratitude doesn’t need to be, nor should it be, a performance. Maybe, instead of asking, “What am I grateful for,” or noting, “I should be grateful,” we should ask, “How does gratitude already show up in my life?” Maybe it’s about paying attention, looking up, and making authentic connections.

I love that when you look up the definition of gratitude online, you get this: “readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness.” Expressing gratitude is not, and should not be, a solo practice. It’s an exchange, a means of building deeper connection. And isn’t that what all of this is about? Maybe, in this season of Thanksgiving, in the midst of so much hardship, we don’t need to try so hard to be grateful. Maybe, in our very being, in our moments of deepest, most authentic connection, we already are. And isn't that something for which to be truly, deeply thankful.