Gratitude as a cure for troubled life| National Catholic Register
5 mins read

Gratitude as a cure for troubled life| National Catholic Register

Don’t let worry rob you of the joys of the day – find moments of peace through gratitude.

Here’s something you’ve probably experienced while traveling: From checking in for the flight to arriving at the airport and taxiing out to the runway, there’s a feeling that you’re almost holding your breath until the plane takes off in the sky and you can feel how the landing gear folds up under the seats.

And throughout this process there is a constant fear that the flight will not only be delayed but canceled altogether, leaving you stranded at the airport.

Although flying can heighten our sense that uncontrollable factors can derail what we desire, it is not unlike what happens so often in life. Whether it’s a big test coming up, an impending job change, a baby being born, or just one of countless typical engagements on our calendar, the thought of anxious anticipation is a common phenomenon. If you’re like me, you often feel like you’re holding your breath, just hoping to reach a finality. And whether we’re just “coming up for air” during a challenging period or “breathing a sigh of relief” when it’s finally done, our folk well represents this universal human experience.

Yet, just because it’s a ubiquitous phenomenon doesn’t mean it’s healthy or formative, especially if it occurs repeatedly in situations where circumstances work well or where risk is low. But even beyond this, having noticed this in my own life, it seems that perhaps an even greater disadvantage than the strife and stress this phenomenon can cause is the loss of countless opportunities for joy and peace when our breath is in check.

Put another way, in the minutes, hours and days (or more) between the onset of a stressor (good or bad) and the final exhalation lies an incredible amount of life, if you think about it over a lifetime. Remember that, with so much time and focus lost in worrying about what might come, what is inherently lost or diminished are the moments that are Now. These present moments have much potential for peace, promise, and joy, but because they are shrouded in the anxiety we feel, we are unlikely to experience them to the fullness that we desire.

Again, this is such a common human experience that I dare say we rarely question whether there is a more desirable way to handle these anxious periods of anticipation. But one of the things that I have noticed that seems to make a significant improvement is our intentional focus on recognizing the discreteness of what might otherwise feel like a continuous block of time, where we are swept into a sea of ​​our anxiety.

Let’s take a prelude to an operation coming up next week. While it’s completely normal and healthy to feel some degree of anxiety about what might happen, the only question is what to do with all the time leading up to it. While people may have different approaches to dealing with this waiting period on the surface, chances are what you do externally won’t be as important as how you handle it internally. Even the most enjoyable activities may fail to elicit the desired pleasure if our minds cannot stop thinking about a looming discomfort. And while surgery is (thankfully) not a frequent occurrence, the internal approach to dealing with this can carry over to more routine stressors, such as an administrative meeting at work.

It’s during these times of anticipation that I’ve found that tapping into the discreteness of the many moments that exist, whether it’s a few quiet seconds sitting at a stoplight, a walk across campus, or a pleasant interaction at home, has a way of connecting remove the anxious tether and create pockets of sanctity and peace from what may at first appear to be an unbroken line of stress. But within these distinct moments there is something that gives peace to such moments. This is gratitude.

As the purest antidote to anxiety, moments of intentional gratitude, even if it is difficult to evoke the emotion desired to feel gratitude, solidify these discrete moments into places of purpose and spaces through which the relativity of time becomes almost palpable. This brings a rising, acute understanding that what may have seemed overwhelming at first (or second) glance is now manageable. Difficult, yes. Painful, maybe. Unwanted, for sure. But certainly not something to despair of in a way that overcomes so many beautiful moments that lie in wait, if only we are present enough to claim them.

It is in this process, done over and over again, that life goes on, slow enough to enjoy the good and fast enough to find ourselves at home on a quiet Friday night, reflecting on how we made it through another week despite other worries. Just like a sunrise breaking through a seemingly impenetrable wilderness, so the week that passed was full of sparkling rays that would otherwise have been hidden if not for our intentional gratitude as we saw the varied, stately trees that made up this great forest of our lives .