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Practising gratitude isn’t enough.
It’s like saying, “I’m going to practise being nice,” promptly insulting someone, and then saying, “Oh, it’s just who I really am.”
Practising gratitude isn’t enough.
You have to be grateful.
The difference is the mindset. The difference is in the genuineness of the gratitude.
Yesterday morning, I thought I would “practise gratitude.”
I thought I’d play a new game for my morning routine. Instead of playing the “lie in bed guessing the time before you open your eyes” game, I lay in bed and decided to list five things for which I am grateful.
1. My 21-year-old son. He’s nice and a good person, and he loves me. Oh, and he hasn’t been arrested (to my knowledge) this year…so far.
2. My 17-year-old daughter. She’s sweet and she loves me. She talks to me and she is kind. She’s not overly dramatic, and I don’t think she is doing drugs.
3. My Mum. She is bat sh*t crazy and has no filter. Every time she opens her mouth, it feels like she has insulted me. But she has a heart of gold.
4. My husband. Most of the time.
And then, I needed the loo, and coffee, and I think my phone beeped at me, so I got up and left it there.
My day went on in the usual way, my moaning and b*tching and complaining, interspersed with a lot of laughter and the usual weird mayhem/harmony balance.
And I thought no more about practising being grateful.
Until my husband came home after the gym.
It was dark and cold and he went straight for a shower before coming in to the lounge where I was lying in front of the TV—fat and makeup-less.
“I walked in the door and thought to myself, ‘Man, I love my wife.’ All the fairy lights lit and the scented candles and the fire going. I’m really so very lucky.” (Insert throw up emoji here.)
It was spontaneous and genuine and lovely. He was being grateful—no practise required.
“I’m your favourite wife, eh?” I replied, snuggling up to him.
“Yes. Yes, you are. Today,” he replied.
~
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