Letters from Dad: The Gratitude Paradox
On the complexity of feeling thankful
If you’re just joining me here at Time Travel For Beginners, hello 👋! I’m so glad you’re part of the community. I’m the author of How to Fall in Love With Questions: A New Way to Thrive in Times of Uncertainty, and you can snag your copy here.
Ever since I could scribble my first words, my dad and I have been writing each other letters.
As time has passed, our letters have become vehicles for exploring big questions about how to navigate uncertainty, and what it means to live a meaningful, happy, and fulfilling life. They grant me access to hard-earned wisdom from a guy who spent more than four decades working as a journalist at the Chicago Tribune.
In this occasional series, my dad and I share the big, time-traveling questions that we’re asking each other.
Our next set of letters is below. Food for thought as you loosen your belts in anticipation of Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.
We’d also love to hear from you. What questions are you asking your kids, parents, or grandparents? How are you learning across generations? Let us know in the comments.
Dear Dad,
We’re getting close to Thanksgiving, and I’ve been thinking a lot about… wait for it…gratitude.
I know, I know. What an original topic, right?
But that’s partly what interests me about it.
Let me explain.
In a highly polarized culture like ours, it’s rare to find ideas that are regarded as unassailably good across party lines. Gratitude is one. There are not too many people (or any?) who would argue against it. Scientific research bears out what religious and spiritual practices have long known: expressing thanks is a path to greater well-being and happiness.
I am not against gratitude. But recently I’ve noticed a strange usage of it. And I’m wondering if it’s something you’ve noticed, too?
It starts in conversations, usually with friends. They want to tell me about a problem they’re having. But before they share it, they say something like, “I know I should be grateful but…”
People who feel guilty complaining about a rodent infestation in their house while other people don’t have homes. Others who feel guilty complaining about pregnancy complications when other people can’t get pregnant. Still more who feel guilty complaining about terrible bosses when other people don’t have a job.
Gratitude becomes a kind of performance. This is what a good person would say, and I must say it. Not only does it feel disconnected from a more genuine sense of gratitude, but it also appears to make them feel badly about the way they might actually feel: Sometimes more upset or angry than grateful.
I’ve felt this compulsive pull of gratitude before. In low moments, there’s a voice in my head saying: What’s wrong with you? Why are you complaining? You should be grateful for all that you have!
That voice isn’t wrong. I have a lot to be grateful for. And yet, as we approach Thanksgiving, I’ve been thinking about the both/and of gratitude. How it can coexist with frustration, disappointment, fear, sadness. How to not let it become an emotional suppressant, or some kind of compulsive performance.
It’s easy to let it slide into the “shoulds” of life, into a kind of ossified virtue-signaling that’s disconnected from raw experience and emotion.
But gratitude feels too important for that.
How have you approached gratitude? Is it more of a “should” for you, something you find you need to force? Something that comes naturally? How has it changed throughout your life?
Love,
Elizabeth
Dear Elizabeth,
You may not remember but for years on the Tribune Editorial Board, I had the gratitude beat. I had to write at least one annual editorial for Thanksgiving weekend, when news was short.
So I’m well aware of the gratitude research. I recall touting to our readers the wondrous power of taking time to appreciate all the blessings in your life.
But you’re right about the tyranny of gratitude, and that internal (or external!) voice insisting that whatever you’re complaining about you should a.) Be more grateful for what you have, b.) Be more aware that things could be worse, and c.) Never take anything for granted.
We’ve all been forced into a Thanksgiving dinner table spotlight, compelled to say what we’re grateful for even if we aren’t feeling it at the moment.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for many things. On many mornings, I give your mom a long tight hug and we marvel at how lucky we are, to be here now, to experience all the beauty and happiness in our lives. Sometimes in the car, I crest a steep rise in the road and see the ocean laid out ahead, sparkling in the sun. That’s when gratitude seizes me.
People who feel the need to preface their complaints with a sheepish bow toward gratitude aren’t fooling anyone. Most of our problems are “First World Problems.” So what? My problem may not be as serious as yours. Again, so what? Everything’s relative and nothing is perfect.
Frustration, disappointment, envy, fear, sadness—gratitude isn’t much of an inoculation against any of that.
You can’t live your life in a constant state of gratitude, or shoo away that voice in your head (“you should be more grateful!”) by obsessively writing lists of all your blessings.
My mom often said: If you have your health, you have everything. I didn’t fully grasp that as a young, invulnerable person, but I do now. Still, that’s no panacea. Or, as the Joni Mitchell song “Big Yellow Taxi” says: “Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.”
The new television series Pluribus shows a world infected by an alien virus that turns everyone happy. No more conflict! Peace on Earth! Almost everyone is grateful. Only 13 people have been mysteriously unaffected by it. And one of them, a cynical romance/fantasy novel writer, is battling to return humanity to itself—which is to say, full of terror and wonder.
What would you do?
Love,
Dad
Dear Dad,
You are reminding me of something important.
What makes us human is not only our capacity for gratitude but also, for ingratitude. The whole spectrum of messy, inconvenient emotions.
The trick is being able to perceive when sprinkling gratitude in a bowl of frustration stew might make it taste better, and when it won’t. I’m still working on this myself.
What I’ve been paying attention to recently is when gratitude burbles up in me unexpectedly, kind of like what you’re describing when you see the crest of the ocean. I felt it yesterday when I saw a radiant red Maple tree against a gray fall sky. And when, for the first time ever, my son grabbed my hand and held onto it as we walked through the park.
So what would I do if I were the cynical writer in Pluribus? I hope that I’d fight for the right to be grateful, ungrateful, and everything in between.
As Rilke writes in his poem Go to the Limits of Your Longing, “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.”
Love,
Elizabeth
 | A guest post by
|
I think and wink, Walter Wink that is. Nonviolence does not necessarily mean passivity. Creative nonviolent resistance is an option. The forcers expect compliance from their violence. There can be gratitude in being able to creatively respond. Alma Deutscher composed an orchestral arrangement that began with traffic noise and police sirens.
How about feeling a sense of calm, contentment, and positivity about gratitude, as it is a practice that improves happiness, resilience, and relationships. It helps you focus on the good things you have, rather than what you lack, and can be a deliberate choice, especially during difficult times. Gratitude is linked to better physical health, a more optimistic outlook, and deeper connections with others.