The Power of Grief and Gratitude.

“I know that hope is the hardest love we carry.” - From “Hope and Love” by Jane Hirshfield

I’ve been thinking about Grief and Gratitude this week. More specifically, I’ve come to the conclusion that these two emotions are not, nor should be, mutually exclusive.

I often like to think that I’m a hopeful person at heart, but the truth is that worry and heaviness have become more familiar companions than hope this past year.

Things are tough. I could write a list here; it would include gun violence, drug use, political agendas, a sad and hurting earth. I’m not going to write a list, though. You can probably do that on your own.

I do wonder: Has the world gotten worse? Or have I just not lived enough years to know that we’re simply in the deep, dark winter of another historical cycle? Either way, cyclical or permanent, the more important questions are these: How do we cope? How do we continue to thrive?

My answer is this: Grief and Gratitude.

On Monday, I was grieving. The world was hard. There was senseless loss. My own blessed life was keeping me warm, but I could feel how much others were hurting, and that knowledge was a heavy yoke. So while I felt a little embarrassed, I cried in my classroom when I was at work. I cried at home with my husband. I let myself grieve.

Then, I began to think about gratitude.

How grateful I was to be safe. How grateful I was for hot coffee and cream. How grateful I was for Christmas lights on a frigid December night. How grateful for laughter when I found it. How grateful for sleep, my warm bed, my work, my healthy body. My life.

Is it a selfish response if -- when we know that someone else is hurting, when we know how much our world is hurting -- we begin to consider our own blessings?

Perhaps. Perhaps a life of martyrdom and suffering is the way to go, but I’m not a big fan of that approach. As Max Ehrmann puts it: “Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings….Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.”

Be gentle.

In these tough times, I am growing more and more aware of how imperative it is that we practice gratitude, that we adhere to a philosophy of deepest hope.

And yet, do not think that your sorrow is somehow depressing or negative. You can hurt and hope all in the same hour. I think you should do both - weep in the shower, scream in the car, and then, in that beautiful exhaustion that follows a deep sadness, look around you.

Remember that the media feeds on catastrophe.

Remember that you’ve got work to do, people to help.

Remember that every act of kindness counts.

Remember that sleep, laughter, and fresh air are powerful medicines.

And be grateful for what you’ve got.  And begin again.