7

GRATITU DE

We learned about gratitude and humility — that so many people had a hand in our success, from the teachers who inspired us to the janitors who kept our school clean . . . and we were taught to value everyone’s contribution and treat everyone with respect.¹

— MICHELLE OBAMA

Once a great talker, my Grandmother Mitsu spoke less and less as she neared the end of her 111 years on Earth. I knew that I would see her again, but as we were leaving her for what they thought would be their last visit, my wife and sister became emotional and apologized for not visiting more often. But Grandmother just waved her hand as if to say, “no worries, it’s okay,” putting her hands prayerfully together in gassho, saying arigatou, an expression of thanks, and bowing her head.

When she fell into a coma and was “nearing the mountaintop,” I rushed back to Japan to see her. When I called her name, she opened her eyes to see me and soon after refused food and water, and within hours there was silence. “She waited for you,” the priest told me.

We took her body to the mountain village where she was born and where our family had donated land for the temple. As her closest relative, I was handling the proceedings. My mourning was consumed by attending to the details of the necessary rituals. As I paused to warm myself by the stove in the chilly temple, I noticed a poster on the wall showing a young woman pausing before eating to say grace, with the words arigatou kara hajimeyoo (let’s begin with giving thanks). I felt that we were in the right place to honor my grandmother’s spirit.

She had helped me to see life through the lens of gratitude, though throughout my whole life I have fallen short in this regard. I was an adolescent who at times did not appreciate being alive. I often thought of what could be and compared reality with an imagined world that I never attained and knew was unattainable. I struggled to live in the moment and took so much for granted. Yet I yearned to quiet my restless dissatisfaction, sensing that the transition to adulthood involves finding gratitude. My grandmother taught me how much better life was when I could be grateful. Living with her in my twenties, I began to feel a sense of contentment with my day-to-day existence and had a glimpse into the truth of finding meaning in the mundane, moments in which we feel the joy of being alive.

The image of heartfulness comes to me now when I see how mindfulness is intimately linked with gratitude. Being awake and aware of the “gift” of each moment fills us with appreciation, cultivating a grateful heart. If we are truly awake, then the mystery and wonder of each moment is apparent. Awareness of how much we are receiving can seem like a miracle, as expressed in the kanji for arigatou that portray the meaning of the expression of deep wonder and awe at what one has received.

In her healthy years, my grandmother’s day began with offerings of fresh water and rice for our ancestors at the family altar (drinkers got a little sake). Then she prepared our breakfast and, before we ate, we gave thanks for the food we were receiving. She taught me to give thanks for all the small kindnesses bestowed on us every day. When I complained, she patiently taught me to appreciate what I had rather than regretting what I didn’t have.

Grandmother’s way of living expressed a sense of gratitude and trust toward the gods, our ancestors, and the people around us. Simple expressions of gratitude were part of daily life, as they are for many others today in Japan: the custom of saying itadakimasu, “I gratefully receive,” before eating; the word mottainai, which conveys an aversion to waste; okagesama de, expressing gratitude to others for our good fortune. Some people in Japan may be unaware of the deeper meaning of these ritual sayings, so it is good to be reminded that these expressions arise from a deep-seated, subconscious understanding that we share the world with other living beings.

Many people these days seem to suffer from the belief that we are all individuals with boundaries, separate from others. Our Western cultures tell us that our purpose is to work to improve ourselves and to produce something worthwhile. We may come to think we owe nothing to anyone. But if we are heartful we know that this is an illusion. We are in fact deeply interconnected — more like cells with a permeable membrane, living by exchange and depending on other cells’ lives. The exchange is continuous and determines both what we are and how we live. Gratitude, then, is a realistic view of what we are in relation to others.

In heartfulness, our interconnectedness means that we are responsible for each other. My grandmother emphasized that gratefulness naturally includes responsibility. I often wanted to know what I would get out of expressing gratitude, but she said it must be done with no expectation of reciprocity. She constantly reminded me of my responsibility as one who was receiving so much, to always give back, not necessarily to the same people from whom I received but sometimes to the next generation and society at large.

I also found this sentiment in Albert Einstein’s writing:

Without some deeper reflection one knows from daily life that one exists for other people — first of all for those upon whose smiles and well-being our own happiness is wholly dependent, and then for the many, unknown to us, to whose destinies we are bound by the ties of sympathy. A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving.²

My grandmother, and Einstein too, described a heartful way of being in which they were aware of and attentive as to how much there was to be grateful for in their daily lives. When my grandmother honored her ancestors or when Einstein reminded himself every day how much his life depended on others, they were being heartful.

The kanji for kansha (gratitude) contains a heart, showing the feeling of thanks and also apology, thus the realization that someone or something has done something for you. This epitomizes the focus on interconnectedness, which is not as clearly included in the Latin root of the word “gratitude,” gratia, which means grace, graciousness, gratefulness, as well as kindness, generosity, gifts, and the beauty of giving and receiving. But there may be a universal sense that gratitude arises from both receiving help from others and focusing habitually on the positive aspects of life. If we take to heart this way of being, we find the sources of gratitude are infinite, and include such mundane events as simply waking up in the morning, or appreciating one’s abilities, or seizing a chance to do meaningful work. The object of gratitude may be humans, nonhuman animals, nature, God, or the universe, or all of these — with gratitude being part of a wider life orientation toward noticing and appreciating the positive things in the world.

I have discovered that across cultures and time, expressions of gratitude have been treated as basic and desirable aspects of human personality and social life. In many traditions, including Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, and Hindu, gratitude is a virtue; their adherents have a common belief in the goodness of both feeling and expressing gratitude in response to received benefits. Many religious and spiritual groups encourage members to develop a worldview of one’s life as a “gift,” or of one’s very self as being “blessed.” The power of gratitude is expressed in a practical way in support groups and organizations, such as Alcoholics Anonymous, that are based on a belief that the regular practice of grateful thinking strengthens a sense of meaning for one’s life.

I find that a heartful way of living requires daily rituals to remind us of the beauty of gratitude. A student from Dharamsala, India, the home to the Tibetan government-in-exile, gave me this prayer from His Holiness the Dalai Lama, which I recite first thing in the morning:

A Precious Human Life

Every day, think as you wake up

“Today I am fortunate To have woken up.

I am alive,

I have a precious human life.

I am not going to waste it.

I am going to use

All my energies to develop myself,

To expand my heart out to others,

To achieve enlightenment for

The benefit of all beings.

I am going to have Kind thoughts toward others.

I am not going to get angry, Or think badly about others.

I am going to benefit others As much as I can.”³

Gratitude in Self-Reflection

Gratitude may come easily to us when we get what we want, but when difficulties come our way we are tested to maintain this positive attitude. This challenge is especially strong when we are confronted with illness. In my search for understanding how humans heal from illnesses of various kinds, I found Naikan, a therapeutic method based in gratitude.⁴ Developed by Ishin Yoshimoto in Japan, Naikan draws on Eastern spiritual and psychological traditions. Naikan, meaning “to look inside,” is a method of introspection, reflecting on one’s life, one’s relationships with others, and the impact we are having on the world around us.

Naikan asks three questions that provide a foundation for reflecting on relationships with others, such as parents, friends, and children. As we reflect on our relationships, one by one, we begin to gain a realistic view of our conduct and of the exchange that has occurred in the relationship:

“What have I received from the other person?”

“What have I given to the other person?”

“What troubles and difficulties have I caused others?”

Naikan fascinated me, because it offered such a contrasting view of healing from the psychotherapy I was learning in the United States. Rather than concentrate on ways in which we had been hurt by others, in Naikan there is no step of acknowledging the harm another person has done. Instead the focus is on how we have been helped by others, using our relationships with others as a mirror in which we can see ourselves. We reflect on what we have received from others, what we have given, and what troubles we have caused. When we think of everyone to whom we can feel grateful, we realize that all we possess has come to us from others or has been evoked by their presence.

Of course, the people to whom we may feel the most grateful are often those toward whom we also feel resentment, especially our parents. Our challenge is to concentrate on good aspects of their treatment of us, however small. We reflect further on what we have neglected in thoughtlessness or without consideration of the other person’s existence.

Our human capacity for self-reflection is the root of our suffering, but it also holds a key to our freedom. A sincere examination of ourselves is a difficult task, requiring attention to our mistakes, failures, and weaknesses, and acknowledging our transgressions as well as actions that have caused difficulty to others.

Naikan does not permit blame or complaint about how we have been treated by others, as it is based in a belief that it is more productive to focus on ourselves. Well-being is related to our ability to maintain a worldview in which we realize how much we receive every day, every moment, that keeps us alive. As a psychotherapist, I notice how healthy people are not blaming others but instead are grateful. When a client feels gratitude, she is healing — neither overestimating nor underestimating herself, but being capable of seeing value in her situation and appreciating what is good in her life.

The discovery of Naikan gave me a new understanding of the power of gratefulness, of cultivating a grateful heart. Through its philosophy we may develop a natural and profound sense of gratitude for blessings bestowed on us by others, as well as a healthy desire to find meaning in our life and the inspiration to contribute to others’ happiness and welfare. This is the way of heartfulness, focusing our energy on what we have received and also on what we can give in return. It directs energy first inward and then outward to others and to a greater good.

While Naikan is an intense form of therapy, we can practice its principles in daily life. I like to reflect on the same questions used in the therapy: “What have I received from the other person?” If this question proves to be too difficult, I try another: “What have I given to the other person?” Or I may ask, “What troubles and difficulties have I caused others?” This simple exercise, which can be practiced at any time and any place, provides great benefits of cultivating heartfulness.

This focus in Naikan on what others have done for you and how you have caused difficulties for others reveals a strikingly different way of viewing forgiveness than what is taught in mainstream psychology. But both stress that some things call for forgiveness, or making peace with the past and closing that part of our life. We do not need to condone or forget, and we are still careful that it does not happen again. We stop constantly investing parts of ourselves in the event and reliving things that are long past, and we cease feeding anger about the wrong. Forgiveness means living in the present moment, opening relations with others, and moving the energy from blame, hate, prejudice, and revenge into new, fruitful ways of living.

Of course, there is nothing more difficult to do, even if we know that research shows that those who forgive more easily enjoy better physical health and suffer less from anxiety and depression. Still, most people find it hard to move on from either a major injustice or minor slights, wallowing in victimization, attaching their identity to the wrong received. Change becomes impossible if our indignation supports our whole personality; we fear that we will lose our identity if we forgive.

To forgive, we need to recognize the wrong we have felt, the sometimes terrible suffering we may have yet to confront. Forgiveness means being less concerned with judgment and more with understanding. This demands humility and flexibility, leading to radical transformation of our personality. Before forgiving the injustice, we have to acknowledge and feel it fully. This is the paradox of forgiveness.⁵

Naikan offers an alternative heartful path of compassion, redirecting the energy devoted to trying to forgive others back to our own conduct and treatment of them. Focusing on the “sins” of others, condemning them for what they have done to us, nourishes resentment and anger in us.⁶ Healing comes from accepting the reality of the things we ourselves have done to hurt others. Ultimately, we may find that we are in no position to grant forgiveness, and that we have received forgiveness without even asking for it.

This heartful approach pushes us to be moved to empathize with the person who has offended. If we manage to place ourselves in their situation, then understand their intentions and suffering as well as our own, we find it easier to forgive. We can understand why they did what they did. Perhaps the discovery that the cerebral activities of forgiveness and empathy take place in the same area of the brain should not surprise us. Yet we also know that forgiveness is truly a matter of the heart.

Gratitude in Illness

One way that I renew my sense of gratitude is by being with those who have come to a deep understanding through facing severe illness. Ana Stenzel, one of the twins mentioned earlier, regularly gave guest lectures for my classes before she passed away in September 2013. The previous autumn, Ana came to speak to my students, many of whom were planning to be health care providers. They listened attentively, deeply touched by her wisdom that was far beyond her years. That week, they wrote in their journals how much Ana had taught them about living with acceptance and appreciation for what we have been given. In class they talked about how the experience of Ana’s sharing her story had given them the courage to live more fully with gratitude for the small things, accepting their own and others’ frailties and vulnerabilities.

In July, two months before she died, Ana wrote this message of gratitude:

By living alongside death for so long, I have truly lived. By being aware of limited time, I have not wasted any time, my life has been better for it. Too bad it has taken illness to realize this. But what does every human being strive for? To me, everyone wishes to feel love and connection, to be part of something great, to make an impact, to be inspired, to leave the world with a sense of peace and satisfaction. Fortunately, thanks to great motivation and a backdrop for opportunity, all those things have landed in my lap. Our film and book have made an impact, exceptional people encircle me, and I have felt the love of God, of a spouse, of my young nieces, and even my new basset mix puppy, Timon. I have seen more stunning scenery through my travels than I ever dreamed of, and I felt the highest of highs and lowest of lows in human emotions. There are no regrets. . . .⁷

Ana’s mother, Hatsuko, gives us a parental perspective on gratitude when expectations are short for a child born with a terminal illness. On Ana’s passing at age 41, Hatsuko’s sadness was matched with joy from deep gratitude for the time that Ana had to accomplish so much. Ana had learned to appreciate the preciousness of each day, as had her mother. For Hatsuko, getting another month with her child, or another five years or even one year, was everything.

Ana writes how it took illness to teach her not to waste time and to be mindful of moments and grateful for opportunities. My colleague Barnett Pearce, who was dying of cancer, called his illness “a wake-up call” and jokingly wrote a memo to himself: “Don’t make the universe shout so loud to get your attention next time!”⁸

I also learned about gratitude from two friends, a couple who went through end stages of cancer together. Soh was 71 years old when he died, just months after his wife, Chio, passed away at 65 in the same hospice in St. Luke’s Hospital in Tokyo. Soh learned about gratitude caring for Chio through the final stages of her life after she had been diagnosed with lung cancer. He became her caretaker, dedicating his life to helping her battle her illness. But his task became infinitely more trying when he was diagnosed with stomach cancer the following year. Although he had expected to outlive her, suddenly he was concerned about whether he would be able to care for her until the end. Soh became both caretaker and fellow traveler, following along as Chio moved through stages of cancer, facing each challenge before he did. She became his teacher of living and dying, and especially of gratitude. They each kept a journal and, after her death, Soh put them together into a book.

This story of heartfulness shows how Chio’s mindful living gave her such gratitude for everything. Chio writes that she sees even her cancer with gratitude, as an experience that enables her to connect with others’ suffering. “Because we are having this strange experience I can empathize with the feeling of those who suffer, I can be one with them,” she writes. When Chio comforts Soh by calling him her “comrade-in-arms,” he realizes that his illness has bridged the gap that divides those with cancer from others, which gives him a peaceful feeling of oneness. They joined in compassion, as they suffered, truly together.

Chio tells Soh that she accepts all of life as her destiny and God’s will. She is at peace. But Soh can’t understand.

“How can you be so bright and cheerful when you have such a serious illness?” he asks.

She smiles and replies, “Because I am grateful for the kindness of those around me.”

She gives thanks to those who care for her, thanks for beauty, thanks for truth. Chio, an artist, notices and acknowledges the small things in life as blessings — a simple meal of rice and miso soup, the nurses who serve her, those who deliver her food, visits from her sons and their wives, her natural medicine, her hospital medicine, morning exercise, reading a paper leisurely, and living at home like a “heroine with her partner.”

Shortly before her death, Chio writes in her journal: “I may not be long in this world; it may be the terminal stage for me but every morning I am thankful for the gift of life, being able to take a deep breath of a flower’s fragrance. Last night Soh told me that tomorrow is our wedding anniversary and he would buy me flowers. In bed, I wondered why I had received such a wonderful husband. . . . Thank you.”

Soh accompanied Chio through the final stage of dying, interpreting her slight nod to his question, “Are you ready?” as a request for a life-terminating injection that delivered her from her agony. It was spring, and by autumn of that year Soh entered the same hospice.

Referring to his 44 years together with his wife, Chio, Soh wrote these words: “All that remains is gratitude.”⁹

Soh lived heartfully till the end by making his last job the creation of a book that integrated the journals both he and Chio had kept in their final days. He saw this as fulfilling his responsibility to their love. He gave it as a gift to his friends, and it was eventually made into a book for the public, then a television program, and finally even an opera.

My friends’ beautiful expressions of gratitude in the midst of suffering and dying have reinforced my grandmother’s teachings of the samurai way of Bushido. I use these lessons through a daily ritual of reflecting on death, imagining my own death. This practice heightens awareness of the gift of life itself; each day then becomes a new thing — and the possibility of authentic living emerges.

Teaching and Parenting

Gratefulness permeated my upbringing. Going out with my dad was always an impressionable experience in my childhood. Wherever we went, he insisted on engaging with whoever was there — it didn’t matter how “low” the person was on the social hierarchy, Dad treated everyone the same, as somebody worthy. He respected all people, in the sense of seeing them and modeling grateful behavior. I observed him as he greeted people working in the street, picking up garbage, or waiting on us in restaurants. He acknowledged their existence, their effort, thanking them for what they did.

My mother was far less demonstrative and verbal, but taught quiet gratitude. We were reminded constantly, in word and deed, to be aware of what was being done for us, to take nothing for granted. We were taught to distinguish between what we wanted and what we needed, trusting that we would get what we needed, though we could not get all that we wanted. This was simply the reality of life. We were taught to appreciate what we had without comparison with others.

As a parent, I have sought to instill gratefulness in my children. As an educator, I ask myself how I can bring the benefits of gratitude into the classroom. After many years in schools I am aware of how much our educational system, especially at the university level, is based in critical analysis, critical reading, critical writing, and argumentation. We claim that this doesn’t mean criticism and argument in the common sense, yet both have a strong tendency to be negative. A student taking one of Stanford’s most popular courses exulted, “We learn how to tear apart an article or an idea.”

Recognizing my own tendencies of finding faults and dismissing others’ ideas, I began to understand how much I was missing, and losing, through this process. Shifting to an appreciative stance, we learn so much more by asking ourselves “What can I learn from this person, this article?” and then discovering that there is always something to learn. From practicing psychotherapy I know the healing and empowering quality of seeing the goodness in people. We can bring to any encounter this same power of viewing others through an appreciative lens.

My colleague Tojo Thatchenkery calls this “appreciative intelligence”¹⁰ — the skill of “seeing the mighty oak in the acorn.” You see this ability in creative and successful people who know how to reframe reality to reveal the hidden possibilities within even the most seemingly unpromising situations. People who possess appreciative intelligence are realistic and action-oriented, with the ability not only to identify positive potential but also to devise a course of action for taking advantage of it to achieve good outcomes.

Appreciation is a powerful leadership attribute. If a leader can spread appreciative intelligence throughout a group or organization, it enables all members to become more creative, resilient, successful, and personally fulfilled. Appreciative intelligence is related to appreciative inquiry.¹¹ This is a search for knowledge designed to help evolve the vision and will of a group or organization. Rather than focusing on fixing problems, appreciative inquiry attempts to create a shared consensus of a new future by exploring and building on the core competencies unique to an organization. Instead of an image of an organization as a problem to be fixed, it is seen as a mystery to be appreciated.

Heartfulness groups develop appreciative intelligence. Those of us in such groups present our stories rather than our arguments, showing appreciation for the genuineness in others’ stories. We respond to others’ contributions nonjudgmentally, looking for the positive and for points of connection. Rather than competitive, win-lose dialogues in which one individual emerges as the “best,” we engage in win-win dialogues, collaboratively moving ahead. Gratitude flows naturally in this heartful community, when it is grounded in vulnerability and humility.

The gratitude that students show circles back to me. In a recent class, a student asked me, “Sensei, what was the best moment in your life?” and I answered without hesitation, “Right now, to be here with you.” I was surprised to hear myself say it, and even more astonished to realize that I actually meant it. It gave me a wondrous feeling of peace and dignity. I knew that I was in the right place at that moment. I wanted to be there; I wasn’t thinking of great times in the past or indulging in future fantasies. I was mindful of the moment and grateful for the opportunity. This class was a place of peaceful spirit, where I and my students alike could be just as we are, in our original nature — our authentic selves.

Gratitude in Practice

While the roots of adopting gratitude as a good way of living are ancient, its current popularity is actually based on science. Mindfully noticing, appreciating, and enjoying the elements of one’s life affects our well-being, and a growing body of evidence shows that gratitude builds psychological, social, and spiritual resources.¹² Recognizing what life gives and offers makes us feel rich and blessed; reminding ourselves of our good fortune in receiving these gifts is a way of overcoming life’s trials. A grateful response to life circumstances is an adaptive psychological process by which we positively interpret everyday experiences.

Gratitude is one of the emotions whose roots lie in the capacity to empathize with others and feel our interconnectedness. The experience of gratitude, along with the actions stimulated by it, build and strengthen social relationships. Focusing on the benefits we receive gives us a warm feeling of being loved and cared for, encouraging a desire to give back directly to the givers and to others, as well. When we express our gratitude to others, we strengthen our relationship with them.

Cultivating a way of being based in heartful gratitude is something we all can do. Experience tells us that this is a good way to live. Gratefulness begins with mindful awareness, then we see and listen, opening our hearts for opportunities to help others, too, and inviting ourselves to do something.

Interventions such as writing exercises can be used in daily life to increase gratitude, and consequently to improve well-being.¹³ These simple interventions showing that gratitude is related to well-being stand in stark contrast to studies showing that huge increases in income are needed for even modest gains in feeling well-being. Research reinforces the spiritual belief that greater peace can be found in learning to appreciate what we have instead of spending our lives desiring more material possessions and achievements. From a scientific view, we can’t be sure if gratitude actually causes well-being, but we know intuitively that it is good for us, as well as for others, since the moral and spiritual values of gratitude have often been instilled in us since childhood.

Brother David Steindl-Rast, a Benedictine monk, meditates and writes on how the gentle power of gratefulness makes people happy.¹⁴ He reminds us how awareness of each moment is the most valuable thing that we have, one that gives us the opportunity to do something over and over again, because every moment is a new chance.

Though this makes sense to us, resistance may arise when we are told to be grateful, because we feel there is so much suffering in our lives. Yet focusing on gratitude does not mean that we have to be grateful for everything, either on a personal level — for our failures, our injuries, our illnesses — or on a global level — for evils, terrors, and horrors in the world. We do not have to be grateful to everybody: the noisy neighbor, the disrespectful boss, the police officer who treats us unjustly.

We may believe that we should embrace everything in our lives, because it is our fate, karma, or dharma that makes us who we are. Great beauty lies in this way of being. But can most humans be grateful for everything? In many cases, the best we can do is to accept. We may not be able to be grateful for our trauma, but we can accept it and move on with courage.

Gratitude and Society

Science has shown that practicing gratitude increases happiness and health in an individual. Having more healthy individuals in the world is certainly positive. But the importance of teaching gratitude is guided by a belief that the benefits of that attitude for the individual are also transferred to society. My experience in heartful communities is that gratitude springs naturally from the consciousness created by our practices. I find that heartfulness moves us from dissatisfaction, fear, and narcissism to satisfaction, trust, and a deeper appreciation of our interconnectedness. It frees us to live in the present and to accept each moment and every circumstance and each other as gifts. Our discontent with life is broken, and we begin anew in the recognition of what we actually have rather than what we appear to lack.

Steindl-Rast sees gratefulness as a revolutionary force:

There is a wave of gratefulness because people are becoming aware of how important this is and how it can change our world. Because if you’re grateful, you’re not fearful, and if you’re not fearful, you’re not violent. If you’re grateful, you act out of a sense of enough and not of a sense of scarcity, and you are willing to share. If you are grateful, you are enjoying the differences between people, and you are respectful to everybody, and that changes this power pyramid under which we live. It doesn’t make for equality, but it makes for equal respect, and that is the important thing.¹⁵

Some people fear that gratitude can be used to oppress, as the oppressor’s message is that “you should be grateful for what we give you, and not ask for more.” But this is not an either/or situation, and I believe that we can be grateful for what we are given and can also ask for more, for full equality and justice. I see gratitude as a path toward rejection of the “scarcity” way of thinking, or the way of seeing the need to hoard and fear the other. A synergy paradigm sees abundance and sharing as ways to peace.

A heartful path to gratefulness consists of vulnerability and authenticity, accepting our imperfection and incompleteness. The sense of peace that arises with gratitude comes from accepting the reality that we can’t manage alone, that we do not have to strive to be superhuman. Even if we are not so brilliant, not so perfect, we are just fine as we are.

We challenge ourselves to see the difficulties given to us by rising to that opportunity, by learning something, like patience or standing up for our convictions. So, while there are many things for which we can’t be grateful, we can still try to cultivate gratefulness for even difficult moments, because we have the opportunity to do something. Rather than the habitual way of rushing through life not seeing these chances, there is always the possibility of being grateful in every given moment for the opportunities that are given to us, to use them to make something out of life. When we fail — and we will fail — we get another opportunity. We always get another opportunity, and that’s the wonderful richness of life and the source of continual hope. And yet another reason to be grateful.

The way of Bushido teaches me appreciation for the gift of life. We can contemplate death, take nothing for granted, and come alive with gratitude. Being awake and aware of the mystery and wonder of each moment, being conscious of my connection to nature and all other beings and forces in the universe, fills me with appreciation and lets me cultivate a grateful heart.

This can be a habit, a practice of daily life.

I am learning to live with the mantra “This is as good as it gets.” It brings me to the peaceful realization that being where I am right now has to be appreciated, moment by moment. This awareness brings a wonderful sense that I am right where I am, enabling me not to think of the past or to worry about the future, just being mindful of being in the moment, and grateful to be there.

EXERCISES

I. Journal Your Gratitude

1.   Get a notebook to keep by your bed, and call it your gratitude journal.

2.   Every night before you go to sleep, write down 5 things for which you are grateful on that day. Write things about yourself, other people in your life, situations, or experiences.

3.   Do this for at least one week and notice how it makes you feel.

Go here for hints on how to keep the journal:

https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/tips_for_keeping_a_gratitude_journal.

II. Express Thanks

We often feel bad about not thanking people for what they have done for us. Take the simple action of thanking someone who has done something for you.

1.   Call to mind someone who did something for you for which you are extremely grateful but to whom you never expressed your deep gratitude. This could be a relative, friend, teacher, or colleague. Try to pick someone who is still alive and could meet you face-to-face. You might select a person that you haven’t thought about for a while.

2.   Write a short letter to that person as though you were addressing them directly. Describe what this person did, why you are grateful, and how their behavior affected your life. Describe what you are doing in your life now and how you remember his or her efforts.

3.   The optional next step is to deliver the letter, if possible. Or you might deliver the same message by phone or video chat.