Most of the time I share bits and pieces of my life and try to convey some of the wonders that make life worth the efforts. Today I really want to encourage everyone to begin a Gratitude Journal.
To set the record straight, I do not believe that there is anything supernatural that occurs when one keeps a journal. I have read the so-called new age books about manifesting this and that. I have attended seminars and webinars about the magic of putting an idea out there — letting it float about somewhere in the universe. I have heard some say that writing down a thought will make it materialize. And, the hype goes on.
I’m not going to follow that trend. I do believe there is value in keeping a journal. I just happen to call mine a gratitude journal. But, there is something special about crystallizing our thoughts. When we keep a journal as a deliberate activity we learn something about ourselves and those around us.
Perhaps I am the eternal optimist. I do believe we should all look for the good that surrounds us. There are lessons we can learn from each and everyday. We can learn from those who profess to be teachers and gurus. But, we can learn just as much from the homeless person sleeping on the street. My father always told me that everyone in the world can teach us something. I do believe that.
More importantly I believe that when we encounter the homeless person on the street or the corporate executive we learn something about ourselves. And, that is the real importance of keeping a journal from my perspective. How do we react when we see the homeless person, hungry and cold? Do we walk on by as if he is invisible? Or, do we offer a bit of hope? Do we “see” that person?
When we go to the bank or meet with the corporate executive do we feel as if we are lesser in importance? When we talk to our doctor do we feel as if questioning his diagnosis or prognosis will offend him? Do we shy away from people because we think them “better” than us? Or, do we step over a person because we are so much better than he?
Do we watch the television and wish we would send the $18.00 a month to feed a hungry child in Africa or do we take action? Do we live in our own little comfort zones or do we reach out to others?
Many, many years ago I was a wisher. I would sit in the comfort of my house and wish I could do something. It all just seemed so far away. And, to be honest I liked it that way. I liked not facing the world or those who did not live in my little community. I liked feeling sorry for those with less than I. It made me feel good in an odd sort of way to watch the world go by and to feel the pity for those less fortunate. I enjoyed the comfort that came from not confronting anyone who clearly positioned himself in a “higher” place. After all, who am I to question anyone?
I began keeping a journal. My life changed. It did not happen over night. Nothing does. Everything takes time and preparation whether we realize we are preparing or not. Life prepares us if we allow it.
My first journal was really like a kid’s diary. I was comforted by being able to write down why I was envious of the girl at school who got a new car for her sixteenth birthday when my parents could not afford one for me — and would not have bought one for me if they could have.
At the end of the first year of keeping a journal I realized I had tried to write down all the things for which I was grateful. That had been my father’s suggestion. Instead, I realized the things for which I thought I was thankful were things that were purchased. I was thankful for a pair of shoes that were the fashion fad at the time. I was thankful for the sweater that was the name brand all the chic girls were wearing and so on.
When I shared the journal with my father, he pointed out that I was thankful for things — tangible things. He suggested that I pay a little attention to events, occurrences, incidents, little things that happen in everyday life that mean something. The second journal was a little more time consuming and thought provoking. I began to think of the things that happened during the course of a day that made me smile.
I suppose it was five or six years later — and I was still keeping my journals — when I sat down to read my journals. I was so surprised by what I read and what I remembered. I could not remember the sweater that was so important five years ago. I did remember a pair of jeans, but they had been tossed out the year before. But, when I read about falling in love with French impressionism I realized that I still loved the interesting brush strokes of Monet and Manet and others. I began painting.
Years later I remember reading about seeing the old man on the street bundled up in a coat, shaking as he curled up on the sidewalk to contain as much of his warmth as possible. The image was so real and so vivid. I missed the family Christmas dinner that year. I spent it at the community kitchen serving food to the homeless.
Now look. I’m not an angel by any means. And, no! I do not do as much as I would like for others. But, keeping the gratitude journal has changed my life — and I hope some of the little snapshots of our community will help change yours.
A couple of weeks ago I was thumbing through one of my journals. I read a little blip about being thankful for the lady who let me pull out into the traffic flow ahead of her. I had smiled and waved thanks. She had smiled and nodded back at me. That moment was priceless. And, I tried to recreate it by stopping to let a gentleman pull into the flow of traffic ahead of me a few days before Christmas. Apparently, we were going to the same store. As I got out of my car he almost ran up to me to thank me for such a small act. “I had been sitting there for fifteen minutes. Would probably still be there if you hadn’t let me in. Thank you.” His “thank you” and sincere smile made my journal for the day.
Keeping a journal is a lesson in life — your life. It keeps things in perspective. It can direct our lives for the future. And, it can make us think. In a journal from about ten years ago I spent almost three full pages writing about a person who had deliberatley gone out of her way to offend me. I must have been steaming when I wrote that entry. When I read that entry during the Thanksgiving holiday weekend I wanted to kick myself in the ass. How could I have forgotten the teachings of Patanjali, “Do not look for reasons to become offended.” And, the truth is the person did not offend me. I was offended because I chose to be. I wanted to be offended — at that time. Sad, how very sad.
I could go on and on — and perhaps I will in the future — but if I can encourage anyone to look into himself, to face the real person inside, and to live up to his potential I would suggest that he start with a journal.
Today I am so very thankful that I have been keeping a journal every year since I was nine. And, I am so thankful for my father’s wisdom and teachings. I am thankful for being asked, “Will this matter to you next year or the year after? Will you remember this ten years from now?” I am so thankful for my Gratitude Journal.
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