Margaret Olivia Wolfson is an internationally acclaimed storytelling artist and personal growth consultant. Her unique performances, presented with music, have delighted audiences at the Kennedy Center, the United Nations, the Sydney Opera House, the National Theater, and Princeton and Harvard Universities, to name just a few. She is the author of THE TURTLE TATTOO: TIMELESS TALES FOR FINDING AND FULFILLING YOUR DREAMS, and MARRIAGE OF THE RAIN GODDESS. Margaret lives in New York City.
I thank you God for this most amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes.
—e.e. cummings
Outside my window is a scene of breathtaking beauty. Tree-topped cliffs tower along the river, and each time the sun tumbles loose from the summer clouds, it splashes the leaves with light and glitters the river with gold.
Inside, more images nourish my eye. A Buddha, his eternal belly laugh masterfully captured by a Filipino woodcarver, stands on a cherrywood table—a cluster of quartz crystals twinkling at his feet. A grouping of photos—family, friends, and faraway places—rounds out the charm of this display.
Further contributing to this most amazing day is a feeling of contentment—arising from the fact that I am engaged in a cherished activity. I sit and write in a clean and peaceful apartment, a cup of apple blossom tea nearby, its steam swirling upward, sweetening the air. Taking all this in, I am overwhelmed with a soul-warming feeling that can best be described as gratitude.
It is also important for us to express gratitude—within reason—for all those things that challenge, sadden, anger, or frustrate us. As the poet Theodore Roethke writes, “In a dark time, the eye begins to see.” As a storytelling artist, I have encountered many myths and tales that vivify this idea. Many of these stories teach us that serpents and toads—creatures often associated with the repugnant—are in fact the guardians of precious jewels and gold. Similarly, painful experiences are not meaningless. When we crack open pain’s shell, we almost always discover spiritual pearls.
I once had a workshop participant whose story beautifully illustrates the power of gratitude. This woman, Marisol, bore the scars of inner-city life. Despite the fact that one parent was a hard and steady worker, the other was alcoholic and mostly absent. The abuse Marisol suffered at the hands of this parent, when combined with her childhood education in the dog-eat-dog mean streets of the city, eventually led to her downfall. Her soul collapsed, and she slid into the hellish underworld of drugs.
When Marisol turned 30, she became pregnant. She also learned she was HIV positive. Motivated by fear and imminent motherhood, she suddenly had one dream—to change her life. Toward this end, she began seeking help. Because she expressed profound gratitude to the administrators, counselors, facilitators, clergy, peers, and medical practitioners involved in her case, many went out of their way to assist her. Their support, when combined with her own formidable powers, worked a miracle.
As of this writing, Marisol is well on her way to a recovery from substance abuse, and in spite of the HIV, her health is good. The energy she once freely burned in the bowl of a crack pipe is now being used to create a future—however long or short it may be—for herself and her daughter—a sparkly-eyed, chubby-legged toddler of two.
Feeling and expressing gratitude for the good we have in our lives doesn’t give us permission to passively accept the aspects of our lives that are not working. However, as we labor to spin the straw of lack into gold, we must focus on our wealth, not our poverty. And while we must consciously make an effort not to push away or avoid our problems, it is imperative that we simultaneously find things to praise. Complaining only focuses our mind’s attention on what is missing, and what we mentally focus on gradually takes shape in the outer world.
One way we can develop our sense of gratitude is to pay closer attention to the beauty around us. Even seemingly small events such as quenching our thirst with a frosty glass of water, luxuriating beneath a quilt on a blustery morning, watching the breeze undo a dandelion puff, or listening to a chorus of crickets croaking and singing on a moon-gold night, are things that, if respectfully regarded, can summon up our gratitude.
Sadly, our lack of gratitude manifests itself in myriad ways, some of them not always obvious. For example, too many of us rush through life—ignoring its splendors as we plow through mind-boggling lists of activities. We pass through landscapes exploding with color, but hardly notice. We wolf down our food, without even so much as a silent thank you to the living thing that gave its life for our nourishment. Others do kind or helpful things, and we minimize their efforts or express inadequate appreciation for the services performed. We fling beautiful books to the floor, taking their creamy, crisp, wisdom-packed pages for granted. Wrapped up in the demands of our personal lives, we too often ignore, or speak harshly to, the web of friends, family members, and colleagues who support us in our journey through life. The very source of existence, the sun, is all too often greeted with a curse, a grumble, and a groan; it is seen as a demanding intruder who orders us to throw off the covers of sleep and begin the activities of an unwanted day.
Many Native American traditions emphasize the importance of expressing gratitude, particularly to the earth. Like many, I am drawn to the solemn beauty of the Navajo Blessingway Chants. It is said that the power of these ceremonial songs is so great that they can bring the afflicted individual back into harmony with the world.
Not long ago, I saw a documentary that featured a Navajo singer reciting a version of the Beautyway Chant to an elderly woman. The chant, meant to quell the woman’s anxiety, described the patient’s connection to the spirit of the mountains, herbs, evergreens, morning mists, clouds, gathering waters, dew drops, and pollen. By helping this person feel kinship with the rich and wild beauty around her, the singer contributed to her healing.
In a similar way, the act of feeling and expressing gratitude is good and powerful medicine. When we feel connected to the richness surrounding us, we feel blessed. And although life and suffering are intertwined—paired together as rainbows and storm clouds, sunlight and shadow, sickness and health—gratitude, like faith, helps us understand that suffering is not the whole picture.
