A right to "Tiny Beautiful Things"

I have been thinking more about gratitude lately, and I realized it took me my entire life to understand it is a practice.

When I talk about gratitude, I’m not talking about the fleeting, forgettable joy we feel when someone does something nice for us. I’m also not talking about the more obvious sense of relief we experience when something goes our way. I’m talking about an observant kind of gratitude — the ability to accept the “tiny beautiful things” that happen, even when it’s been a shit day, or a shit week, or a shit month, or a shit year, and nothing seems beautiful.

It seems gratitude is a powerful salve during times of misery, confusion, and anxiety. However, these states also have a way of making these “tiny beautiful things” appear out of reach, or worse, undeserved. ​

Cheryl Strayed (as the beloved “Sugar”) said it best in her “Dear Sugar” column at The Rumpus ​as she relayed advice she would tell her “twenty-something self” :

​"One hot afternoon during the era in which you’ve gotten yourself ridiculously tangled up with heroin you will be riding the bus and thinking what a worthless piece of crap you are when a little girl will get on the bus holding the strings of two purple balloons. She’ll offer you one of the balloons, but you won’t take it because you believe you no longer have a right to such tiny beautiful things. You’re wrong. You do."

My twenty-something self needed this reminder, so in honor of this sentiment, I thought it would be apt to pass along a few of my own purple balloons in an effort to both recognize them and acknowledge that I do, indeed, have a right to them. Here is what I am thankful for this week:

1. Handing the little seven-year-old girl I tutor a certificate of completion and dog tag as she graduated from her after-school reading program. Also seeing that her family was one of the few families that showed up to the ceremony.
2. Receiving notes. One was from my mom, who slipped it inside a letter she mailed to me about vehicle registration. When I pulled out the letter again later, I needed that “I love you” to fall out from under the fold. The other was a student's yellow sticky note placed on my computer screen at work telling me she got a stellar grade on an essay. As a tutor, I realize I have little to do with her actual grade, but it felt rewarding to have played a small part in helping her accomplish something important to her.
3. Long walks with my dog on warm, breezy nights. 
4. Realizing I have joined a family at work. When I started there nearly two years ago, that was how everyone described the environment. It didn’t hit me until the news came out that I will be going to graduate school, but I know I am leaving a place where I feel an apparent sense of belonging.
5. ​Pinching myself daily at the fact that the space between myself and my educational goals is a walkable path.

What are some things you're grateful for?

Until next time,

​Isabelle