Sometimes gratitude hides in dark places. You search for it with a flashlight, but it’s too busy playing a professional grade game of hide and seek. Tricky little devil. It can be a slippery, elusive little bit of magic, bobbing and weaving and showing off like a three year old waiting for some attention. Gratitude can be tiny, like an infinitesimal crumb, or big like a harvest moon, or silly like a bubble floating through the air from one of those little double ringed plastic thingies you dip into a tiny colored tub of mystery liquid. It can be deep, like a true moment you have with someone, or globally inconsequential, like a parking space right smack in front of where you’re going.
But, the thing about gratitude is that it’s always possible, if you just take a look underneath the envy and greed that’s always waiting to take us on a fast, cheap ride of immediate gratification. It’s easy peasy to see what we don’t have, what we want. That takes barely any muscle. But if you can pull the camera back just a little, look beneath a pile of problems, or sadness, or snow, what will come into focus is your golden ticket. It’s actually always within reach, always within sight, even if it does, so often, act like some massive “Where’s Waldo” poster. Some days, I am bombarded with too many feelings about too many things to find even a shred of gratitude. But then I breath in and out, and it comes to me, what it is that the day can be.