A Synonym for Gratitude

Spoiler alert...there isn't one.

Earlier this week, I had a conversation with my daughter about the difference between “nice” and “kind.”

We’ve done this dance before as she often remarks with great judgment, “And that’s not nice,” as if “nice” is the benchmark by which we determine acceptability of behavior and personhood.

I hate the word “nice.”

In this soliloquy with my daughter performed over her waffle and frozen cherries, I even referenced Merriam and Webster to support my point. The illustrious dictionary describes “nice” as “pleasing”, “agreeable”, “appropriate”, all things that make me want to vomit as instructional directives to my little girl.

On the contrary, Merriam-Webster defines “kind” as “of a forbearing nature” which is a wholly useless definition, but upon further investigation can be extrapolated to a person who is patient, forgiving, and shows self-control, especially when provoked or dealing with others’ mistakes. Thank you Oxford Dictionaries. At least the Brits know how to explain something.

You see why words matter, though.

In an effort to say something profound about gratitude this week, seemingly the most relevant topic with Thanksgiving literally about to drop its leg in our lap, I was trying to play a similar wordle between grateful and thankful. While “thankful” does not make me internally itch the way “nice” does, it is not a word I use. I thought there might be an easy explanation for that, something akin to “nice” and “kind”, but alas, Merriam, Webster, and Oxford just interchange the words “thankful” and “grateful” as definitions of each other or, the ultimate cop out, define both as some version of “feeling or expressing gratitude.”

Scratch that approach. Since that failed experiment, I’ve been procrastinating on writing this post hoping something significant would find its way into my being and magically out of my fingers.

It hasn’t.

But, as I sit here, tired from a day of holiday preparations, sick kids, and packing in anticipation of sitting on the highway for-e-ver, I realized that I’m making this too damn complicated. There are times when the distinction between words makes all the difference, and there are others where the words are somewhat irrelevant. Its the reverence that matters.

I don’t feel much. People think I’m lying about that or downplaying it, but I promise that’s not the case. I do a lot, and when I can’t do or have done too much, I think about what I need to do next. Feelings slow me down. Similar to the frequency with which I get sick, I experience feelings on occasion, but when they get to me, its an all or nothing event. That is how I experience gratitude. And it is why “grateful” is one of the only feelings I can identify on contact, never overlook, and try hard to embody.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday for many reasons, some of which have to do with my own childhood drama, some my adult abhorrence of the commercialism of Christmas, and some simply because a day when my only responsibilities are food, booze, and football sounds heavenly. But, taking a pause to go a bit deeper, Thanksgiving is also my favorite holiday because it is the one I can feel.

Gratitude sits at my table, the guest of honor, right next to Joy and across the gravy boat from Grace. The rest of my family fills in, elbows touching, glasses raised in a toast to the best part of the day…each other. My heart has fortunately never been too small, but sometimes it does feel quite squeezed. Like The Grinch, my mother’s favorite holiday character, I can feel my heart expand just watching…listening…breathing.

Grateful is the word I would use to describe what fills me in that moment, but I could call it almost anything. Precision is not the point. Gratitude is.

I know that for many, Thanksgiving does not come with an automatic dose of this elixir. In fact, it may bring the opposite of grateful, although I sincerely hope it doesn’t devolve into hateful. This one day is no guarantee, and the pressure it puts on people to experience something akin to gratitude is both unfair and, for me, necessary. I need a little push, an excuse to be vulnerable, a window of opportunity to ask for a feeling I crave all year long. So, if this Thanksgiving, Gratitude, Joy, and Grace are not at the table you sit at, please know that I am saving you a seat at my table. We will hold the space until you get there, and we will raucously toast your arrival.

It hurts to yearn for gratitude and it is maddening to feel it is expected of you.

The act of being grateful is not synonymous with anything. That’s likely why its so hard to find unique words to explain its meaning. It’s also why my favorite tactic of playing intellectual monkey math instead of writing a post about feelings failed miserably. Gratitude is what we experience when our deepest needs are met, even momentarily. Even in the face of frustration, conflict, or in-laws. Even when we know grief will replace it as soon as we leave the table. That feeling is enough. And while it is not the story that started Thanksgiving, in my estimation, it is why the holiday continues.

To create opportunity. To hold space. To offer enough.

And so, to you, dear Reader, I say thank you. Your sustained presence is something for which I am sincerely grateful. I hope in the Joy Luck Club you find the opportunity to feel, the space you need to breathe, and the offer that wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, it is enough.

Happy Thanksgiving.