Why Gratitude Isn't Everything

We hear a lot about the value of making gratitude lists. I’m a fan myself. Most nights, just before I go to sleep, I write down three things I’m grateful for that day. They might be small – the delicious buttered sourdough toast I ate for lunch – or bigger, such as the walk I took with one of my closest friends in an autumnal Regent’s Park. My only rule is they’re things that have genuinely lifted my spirits, rather than ones my head tells me I ‘ought’ to be thankful for.

Doing this helps remind me how, even on a rather humdrum day, there’s always magic there too. Which can be all too easy to forget, not least because of the brain’s negativity bias. In earlier times, this was useful as it kept us alert for danger and therefore helped us survive. We don’t need it as much now, yet it’s stuck around.

I’ve found this practice especially helpful when life is at its most challenging. Which is exactly when it can be tempting not to bother. Sometimes I’ve had to dig deep to find three things. Yet I’ve never not managed. Perhaps it’s the kindness of a friend who drops everything to be with me, or the book I’m reading that helps me feel less alone. At such times, I then realise that however dark it is, there are always flickers of light there too.

But gratitude isn’t everything. If we only focus on what’s good in our lives, there’s a danger we end up stifling the stuff that feels sticky and heartbreaking, wallpapering it over with a veneer of false positivity. Which can end up making us feel worse. Especially if we tell ourselves ‘I have so much to be grateful for, who am I to complain. So many people are far worse off.’ But as Edith Eger, the therapist and Auschwitz survivor, writes, ‘There is no hierarchy of suffering.’

We all experience things that make our hearts ache, in large or small ways. I find it more helpful to let myself be with the uncomfortable feelings these bring up, rather than push them away, tempting as it can be.

To hold in one hand all that brings me joy, and in the other that which makes me sad. To bring both into the light, recognising that they are part of the natural order of this world, which is both beautiful and painful. When I do this, somehow it enables the good stuff to be amplified, and the tricky stuff to pass through me more easily.

What are you grateful for today? And is there anything that’s bringing up difficult emotions? If so, what would it be like to give both your fullest attention?