Now that Halloween is behind us, it seems we are barreling headlong into full-on Christmas (or so every shop, commercial and magazine would have us believe). November is the month when home décor stores fill their shelves with mass-produced art items emblazoned with the word “GRATITUDE,” while we complain about holiday traffic, prices, busyness, and more in the lead up to a day dedicated to giving thanks.
So, welcome to the Christmas pre-game show: Thanksgiving and performative gratitude. I chose to make October our gratitude month, because when everyone starts busting out with their social posts on gratitude and being thankful, you can be all “Bitches1, I got this. My gratitude practice is solid af, and it’s everyday, not just the days surrounding the third Thursday of the eleventh month.”
My October was about as nutso as a 31-day period could be. I’m grateful to have survived the month. Don’t fret, at no point was I in any grave danger (well, except for some interludes on interstates 95 and 91). It has been a hectic, overwhelming period; a month that has felt almost as long as March 2020. (More on my adventures this Sunday.)
I’m relieved to make the transition into November and bid adieu to the pandemonium of chaos that I’ve been steeping in. My life had been kind of like a soup with too many disparate ingredients, some of which are undercooked and crunchy while others are mushy and disintegrating, the broth is so hot it burns your tongue, but the chunks of carrot are still kind of frozen.
Before we move fully into November, let’s just have a quick recap of gratitude and look at some of it’s shadows.
Gratitude: A sense of appreciation or thankfulness recognizing that
There is goodness
It exists outside of us
It is beyond monetary value
It is freely offered
It can’t/shouldn’t be forced, only felt or inspired.
Some people struggle with forcing gratitude. It can feel comparative, as in “at least I don’t have it as bad as X,” or “I’m grateful things aren’t worse.” This can be problematic. Our struggles and traumas aren’t like a selection of fridges at Home Depot for us to compare features. Our journeys are not French doors, our setbacks are not ice makers. Our lives and how we experience and process them are distinct to each of us.
Just because X is going through some shit that appears to be worse than yours, does not minimize that you may be struggling. Allow yourself to be where you are without looking to see where everyone else is.
Overabundance of disingenuous gratitude can also spill into toxic positivity zone.
Briefly, toxic positivity is the commitment to rejecting or denying any of the bad shit or feelings. It is unyielding encouragement to only see the good facets of a thing, situation, or experience, while failing to acknowledge other emotional responses.
Think “good vibes only.”
Here’s something:
It is possible for you to simultaneously have messy, icky feelings while holding space for gratitude.
There’s a balance to be struck in all of this.
“Everything worthwhile in life is won through surmounting the associated negative experience. Any attempt to escape the negative, to avoid it or quash it or silence it, only backfires. The avoidance of suffering is a form of suffering. The avoidance of struggle is a struggle. The denial of failure is a failure. Hiding what is shameful is itself a form of shame.
Mark Manson, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life
I consider myself a Olympic-level turd polisher, someone who can take a super shitty situation and metaphorically make it shine. As an artist, I undertake the challenge to “art myself into a corner:” to keep pushing my work to places I don’t necessarily understand so I can bring them to a place that I love. As a yacht chef, creating exceptional cuisine for guests with high expectations while away from stores and resources, turd polishing is a career-building skill: to be able to transform a meal or dessert on the brink of disaster2 to a delicious Instagram-worthy feast.
But these skills don’t always translate into managing feelings. It took me a long time to learn the importance of allowing a friend, or a self, the space to cry. Emotional turd polishing involves a lot of “At least it’s not as bad as…” or “look on the bright side…” Statements like that are never helpful, and yet, I occassionally catch myself falling into those useless tropes3. Casually begging someone to “Cheer up, tomorrow will be a better day,” has never, in the history of humankind, proven to be successful.
I know. It can sound overwhelming to try and parse through this whole thing of being human. Be grateful. But don’t be fake grateful. Gratitude can help pull you out of a bad place, but allow yourself to space to be in a bad place. Be positive. But don’t be so positive that you ignore the negative. Don’t compare your life to other people’s life. But be compassionate.
It starts with awareness.
This is a lot to wrestle with in one missive. There are massive volumes tackling this topic by researchers who dedicate their lives to study these particular human responses.
I’m here to tell you it’s ok to have all the feels.
And to be grateful for them.
Or not.
by bitches I mean you, humans, people, fellow citizens of earth. Until we come up with a better second person plural than you, or come to a greater acceptance of y’all, I’m using bitches. It’s a term of endearment.
the sea bass has gone off, the cake got stuck in the pan, the guests got drunk and came to the table 90 minutes after they said they wanted dinner, the oven quit, the lettuce froze, etc
to the person I dropped a few of those bombs on the other week, forgive me. you were miserable and I was hoping to let a little sunlight into your soul.