Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Gratitude—The Big and Small of It

Many of us, myself included, use the words "thank you" as carelessly as "excuse me" or "gesundheit." We tend to throw around "thanks" without necessarily giving it a thought. We say it at the Starbucks drive-thru, after opening a present, or when someone holds the door for us. But I want to talk about gratitude, and I'm not entirely sure that thanks and gratitude are as synonymous as we might think.

To be fair, I try (at least some of the time) to be genuine and sincere when expressing thanks—even in the most trivial of circumstances. I'll sometimes see people do a double-take when I do express genuine thanks. Sometimes the thank-yous that seem trivial to me, may not be to someone else.

Less ubiquitous than thanks, and assuredly far less automated, is gratitude. I think gratitude has both a macro and a micro aspect to it. My genuine gratitude towards someone could be macro to them, even though it seems micro to me.

In my estimation, micro gratitude is more closely related to the expression of thanks, but without the same impetus. For example, at this moment I'm very grateful to be on a plane pointed towards home and to my daughters who I haven't seen in a week. The sensation of gratitude and its expression are very specific and intentional. (Even more so because I almost missed my flight.) I miss my girls. This plane is getting me back to them, and therefore I'm grateful on a number of levels. The micro aspect of gratitude is also the one I'm more frequently aware of primarily because many little things happen every day for which I should be grateful.

The macro side of gratitude is a bit more nebulous (which is probably one reason we are less frequently aware of it). Still on the topic of my girls—I'm grateful for them beyond words. But I'm not always mindful of that fact, especially on no-nap days when I long for the peace of early bedtimes.

Today, for example, has been quite frustrating, with airport shenanigans, delays, and a higher-than-normal amount of bureaucratic inefficiency. All of those things combined played into my earlier expression of thanks that I'm at least now headed in the right direction. As I arrived at my gate (the second one, which required two rounds of airport security) and my ire was rising, I met a woman who had been through that same security as well as four terminal changes to be on my flight. Her cheerful expression of relief at finding the right gate finally completely shamed my experience and returned my sense of perspective.

It's a question of perspective, and true gratitude is a game-changer in that regard.

I believe it is impossible to be grateful and anxious at the same time. True gratitude tends to quickly dampen anger. If I'm being honest, and really spending some time focusing on the macro side of gratitude, things that often give me tunnel-vision (see also: stress) usually diminish in importance.

The great part about both the macro and micro sides of this is that when they're combined, they usually give me ample opportunity to realign that perspective. I can be grateful I made my flight with just one terminal change (micro), I can be grateful for my kids in general (macro), and I can also be grateful for the reason for the flight at all, which was celebrating my fifteenth wedding anniversary. I'd call that a check in both macro and micro columns.

The magnitude of those things makes my somewhat ridiculous morning gallivanting around the San Francisco airport seem quite unimportant in comparison.

Gratitude is certainly more prominent when there is an upcoming national holiday dedicated to it, as well as another one focused on gifts and giving, which also generates thankfulness (or not) for those gifts. However, during this busy season, I often find myself contemplating the nature of gratitude all year long in everyday life, rather than simply in conjunction with a holiday or even a season.

How often do I really focus on expressing gratitude—not just an automated response to a barista, a delivery guy, or the customer service rep who fielded my call—on a person who did something that merited thanks, however small. If I'm being honest, I don't do this as often as I should. I know folks who begin and/or end their days making a list of things they're grateful for, and I believe they are happier because of it.

Likewise, how often do I try and take in the view of gratitude for the large-scale things present in my life that make it what it is? Again, the answer is far less often than I should. How is it that the people I know with the most difficult situations are sometimes the most grateful for what they have? Is it privilege that makes me ungrateful?

I'll conclude by saying that I am very grateful for the opportunity to put thoughts out into the ether on this forum. If my words cause even one person to pause and consider something more deeply or in a different way, I'm grateful.

Written by Aaron Roose

Let us know what you think about gratitude's different levels (micro and macro) by clicking here and leaving a comment.

You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.

Tuesday, June 11, 2019

What if I'm Wrong?

During the Soviet-Afghan war (1979-1989), a group of U.S. special forces—operating undercover—were captured by Soviet special forces. On searching the U.S. soldiers, the Soviets found large amounts of U.S. dollars—funds designated for their covert mission. It was a ton of cash.

The Soviets were baffled to realize the U.S. soldiers were carrying out their mission willingly. Why would you be fighting in such a harsh, unforgiving place, when you could take all that cash and get out of there?

It was a turning point among the war-hardened team of men from the Soviet special forces. Their passports were held by their government while they were fighting in Afghanistan. They fought because they were under orders. Yet here was a bunch of guys who fought not only because they were soldiers, but because they personally believed in the ideals of their country.

This is a true story. I know one of the Soviet soldiers who was there. It changed his life and the lives of his men.

It got me thinking—what if someone told me everything I've learned about life was wrong? That my understanding of right and wrong is haywire, and what I thought was gold is essentially worthless. That my perception of reality comes from a systematic program of brainwashing.

Now imagine if you're the person that has to break this news to someone. What do you say?

"You're an idiot. You're like this because you're a product of a narrow-minded sheltered life. You have an evolutionary genetic fault that causes you to be pre-deposed to this idiocy."

Sadly, on social media these days, this approach seems to be the norm. There are plenty of folks trying to change someone else's long-held mindset (or maybe protecting their own) by bullying them online. This is especially true in the areas of politics and religion. We've entered an era of verbal warfare, thinking that words don't really inflict injury. But they do. They have led to a greater divide in this country.

An idea: what if we learned to use a posture and tone of dialogue online, instead of debate?

Some might say, "I'm absolutely certain about what I believe, so why would I need to dialogue? I just need to debate and convert people to my way of thinking." I'm not advocating for arbitration—though there's definitely a need for that on some social issues. What I'm suggesting is that we can get better at agreeing-to-disagree if we have a posture and tone of dialogue instead of debate.

Why is debate our default position? Why is it that we struggle to listen to other points of view?

In my opinion, it's because we've developed a calloused layer of pride in our culture. If someone attacks our left- or right-leaning political position, or our Christian or atheist beliefs, we don't start by assuming it's possible we could be wrong. We don't start by assuming someone else's point of view might have value. We start with, "How can they be so stupid?"

Our culture has instilled a sense of "me first." We have been taught to fight for our rights. We have been instructed to stand on our own two feet. God forbid you should attack my beliefs; I'll come out fighting.

I'm not suggesting we need to let go of our strongly held, time-tested beliefs. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't want everyone to adopt my worldview, and I'm quite happy to debate it with you. But maybe if we started conversations with a tone and posture of dialogue, instead of debate, we might actually learn something from each other instead of engaging in verbal warfare.

In the Bible, there's story about some religious orthodox Jews who brought a woman to Jesus who had been caught in an affair. According to their law, she needed to be stoned. Jesus doesn't disagree with them, but essentially says "go ahead, just make sure the first person that throws a stone at this woman doesn't have anything sinful in their life." They all walked away without throwing a stone.

It always seems to be the people that have an egocentric approach to life—whether it's politics or religion—that are demanding a public stoning. Something needs to change.

That's why we started THRED. Yes, we're a Christian organization and have strongly held beliefs about life and faith. But we see the need to replace debate with dialogue. We may not agree on whether there's a God, but maybe we can work together for justice in our communities. We may not agree on how the world came into being, but maybe we can work together to protect the environment and restore the beauty of the earth we live in. Maybe there are some things we can agree on that can change this world regardless of our differing motivations.

Of course, if I can convince you of my worldview, I will try. But I want to learn to listen with a posture that says, "I am willing to truly listen to your point of view and learn from you." To have this posture, there needs to be a layer of humility. It may not be the automatic reaction like our pride is ... but maybe that can change over time.

Written by Andrew Fitzgerald

For many of us, it's easy to adopt a different persona online. Do you try to stay true to who you are when you're conversing online?

Do you take liberties online that you might not in face-to-face conversation?

You can let us know your thoughts on using social media by clicking here and leaving a comment.

You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.