The Practice of Gratitude

I am reviewing some videos of when Dr. Brene Brown (one of my heroes) was on Oprah's Super Soul Sunday show. They are talking about the emotion joy and how there can be no joy without practicing gratitude. And how Brene believes after all of her research and study that it is actually the most terrifying and difficult emotion to experience; more so than shame, fear, or deep hurt. 

I heart this clip. Click here to view. (its only 6 minutes)

She discusses the idea of foreboding joy and often helps to explain what she means by asking parents to imagine looking down at their sleeping children, and allowing themselves to realize much they love them, and then asking them what they feel next. She talks about how common it is to feel fearful and then "rehearse tragedy," that is, to picture horrific things happening to take them away from you (I picture a large hawk swooping down and grabbing baby out of crib, but maybe its something a bit more real for people who actually have kids). 

But even though I don't have  children, I can definitely relate. Foreboding joy comes over me in a variety of ways. Recently I've noticed it in my work. I get these moments where I think about how amazing it is that I get to do something that I'm passionate about everyday, and then I feel fearful that somehow it will get "taken away." In my head, this typically takes the form of someone (including myself) discovering that I actually suck at my job and I will therefore find that I ruin people's life by somehow psychologically messing them up, or failing to be whatever it is that they needed me to be. Yep - my mind goes there.

And foreboding joy definitely occurs when I think about Garrett. Very early in our relationship, I knew just how freaking excited I was about him, and it scared the crap out of me. So much that I called several of my friends, telling them I didn't know if I could handle the uncertainty of what was going to happen (there were no real indications of anything except the fact that the relationship was going well, mind you, except maybe that he hadn't responded to a text and it had been a whole 45 minutes). I felt the fear of losing what we had so strongly, that it sent me bawling pretty uncontrollably as I paced up and down a section of the path along Lake Michigan. And several friends can vouch for this fact.

Brene says: When we lose our tolerance for vulnerability, joy becomes foreboding. 

I was SO excited that it at times was too much. I would picture things not working out in various ways and get sad, anxious, and mad about it. Then I would get pissed at myself for not being able to "enjoy this stage of the relationship" as so many people told me I "should" do. 

So what the heck do we do about this foreboding joy? Well, we learn from joyful people who are living wholeheartedly, of course.

Joyful people get that shudder too when they feel deep love for someone, and the uncertainty inherent in life that it may or may not last forever, but instead of "dress rehearsing tragedy"  (that was me imagining that Garrett would wake up one day and decide he no longer likes "emotional" girls and break things off), they practice gratitude.

Thinking back, there was one moment where I really did this. I was walking home from the train after work and like many days during those first several weeks, I was feeling anxious about the relationship. It had been about a month since our first date, and I was not falling, I had fallen. I knew from basically date #1 that this dude was great, and this was day #30 so I had basically been in love for 29 days (obviously, exaggerating a bit but you get the point). And Garrett, being the non-impulsive, diligent, level-headed person he is, did not move at the same pace. I would do the whole: "I really love spending time with you.... you mean so much to me..." fishing type of comments, hoping with all of my being that he would say, "Me too Shawn! And did you know that I'm deeply in love with you and want to spend the rest of my life with you?!" Then we would hug and kiss and feel secure and happy for the rest of our lives. Yay!! But he did not say that then. Instead he would say something that basically mirrored what I said, and was very heartfelt, but never went any further.

Intellectually, I knew things were likely okay, but my emotional self did not agree. My emotional self decided that feeling vulnerable and scared sucked, and it was pissed. Pissed at him for not being ready to confess the feelings that I had. And definitely pissed at myself for not "enjoying the moment." "I just can't relax!" I would admonish and yell at myself. Ugh.

The feelings of anxiety came and went, and it sure as heck was not comfortable. But on that day, as I turned the corner to the street of my old apartment, I remember noticing the feel of the sun shining on my face, and the tightness in my chest, and I took a deep breath and decided to lean into these feelings and be grateful. Grateful that I found someone who made me feel this deeply. Grateful for the excitement and uncertainty and vulnerable feelings I had. And grateful that I was alive and human and able to feel.

As I did this, I teared up, but not with sadness or fear, but with joy and gratitude for life and all the wonderful mix of feelings that it brings.

So, basically a year later, I practice gratitude again. Because as the video reminds us, it is a practice. 

My gratitude list could go on and on, but for today, I'll just pick a few. I am grateful for my ability to see and hear, so that I can read and watch videos, learn, and apply them to my life and to the lives of those I work. I am grateful for all those in my life, especially Garrett, who finally realized how much he loved me (ha), and who have supported me along this path to learning and coming to know myself better and better each day. And of course, I'm grateful for anyone who takes the time to read this as I reflect on my random thoughts and for allowing me to share this part of myself with you in writing. 

xoxo, S.