Fine! You caught me. I’m not actually against gratitude. Gratitude can be a wonderful thing.
It was one of the first things I did when I was extremely ill. I propped a little whiteboard on my mantle and started writing down tiny details of lovely things that had happened that felt like breadcrumbs. My toddler’s absurdly long eyelashes (why do little boys get the best eyelashes!?). A home-cooked meal that someone dropped off. A friend who sent me extremely funny erasers that corresponded to a hilarious story and who did not ask for a medical update. That blue chunky writing filled the board with ordinary miracles.
The practice gave me a way to compress my attention down to what was still good and true and beautiful.
I read a study recently called “Counting Blessings Versus Burdens” about the benefits of enumerating good things to change your focus. Adults with degenerative neuromuscular diseases (and their partners) had to list what they were grateful for for 21 days and document the results. And, like me, their gratitude did not make illness any less terrifying. It did not resolve the endless uncertainty, or doctors behaving badly, or awful side effects, or the neverending calls to unhelpful insurance bureaucrats. But it did bring a certain amount of pleasure at being able to notice what good was there, accessible even still.
However. The way people talk about gratitude has been driving me crazy lately.
Gratitude has become one of the many efforts to solve the problem of pain. The “wellness industry” (let’s put wellness in quotation marks here) is a multi-BILLION dollar industry held up by social media influencers and self-help titles and whatever we’re juicing lately (celery juice is objectively gross, everyone. There, I said it.). Gratitude has become a strategy for controlling life and our emotions. Another optimization project we can fail (or succeed!) at.
We’ve turned one of the loveliest human responses into a guaranteed cure for suffering. It’s so simple! 100% guaranteed. Just:
Keep a gratitude journal.
Write down three blessings every day.
Shift your mindset.
Reframe anything negative.
Choose gratitude.
Congratulations! You will never be sad again!
The implication being that if you aren’t feeling better, you probably aren’t trying hard enough.
You’ve probably heard the familiar lines (or said them yourself—I know I’m guilty too):
“Just be grateful.”
“But you have so much to be thankful for.”
“At least...”
I know these almost always come from kind, well-meaning people. People who want to help or offer hope or (unrequested) perspective. But, what we know, here in the Everything Happens community, is that life so beautiful AND life is so hard.
The trouble begins when gratitude becomes a way of refusing to acknowledge both truths.
It’s a privilege to write and support the Everything Happens community—and it’s also a lot of work that needs financial support to keep it sustainable.
Every month(ish), I will write a full-length essay for paid subscribers (and that’s today!). If you’re interested in supporting the work of this small-but-mighty team, your contribution helps make possible not only a special monthly space for you to reflect, but also our ability to offer everything else to the entire community for free, like our Everything Happens Book Club and blessings and curriculum for Advent and Lent. Thank you to everyone who contributes to make that possible.
And a friendly reminder: If you’d love to be here but a paid subscription isn’t possible right now for any reason, email hello@katebowler.com and tell us your favorite variety of potato chip, and we’ll happily give you a free subscription. No questions asked (other than those regarding potatoes, of course). Truly. It’s our joy to share.
Talk to me! When has joy shown up completely uninvited—in the middle of something hard? What did that feel like?
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