Gratitude at Unexpected Moments

When I think of gratitude, the first thing I envision is a gratitude journal, some sort of intentional daily practice or even the act of expressing gratitude to someone.  What I don’t normally think of is gratitude happening TO me and that’s exactly what’s happened a few evenings ago.

Summer in Central Florida is usually pretty predictable.  The mornings start off with temperatures in the 70s, humidity between 95-100%.  As the sun rises, the temps rise with it and the humidity lowers accordingly.  By mid-afternoon the temps march steadily into the 90s and the feels like pushes into the 100s until they reach a boiling point. 

Suddenly dark clouds roll in, racing across the peninsula.  Lightning flashes, thunder booms and rainstorms rivaling a monsoon douse the heat (and everything and everyone who dares or has the misfortune to be outside).  In the wake of the storm, the sun comes back out creating a steam bath effect that has the power to take your breath away and drench you in sweat from head to toe within 30-45 seconds.

Just Like a Heat Wave

This year, for some reason, our little corner of Central Florida didn’t get the standard summer weather message.  July was particularly brutal as the daily temps hovered around 100 degrees and not a drop of rain in sight.  I studied the forecast each day and watched the radar maps on my phone.  Storms would appear to be heading our way and then suddenly split and veer around us like an atmospheric psych.

We don’t have in-ground sprinklers installed in our yard, so we depend on rain coming at regular intervals to keep our lawn green and lush.  As July wore on and our lawn looked increasingly less green and less lush, we began to take matters into our own hands.  Hand watering the plants in our landscaping was the first priority given the amount of time, effort and money we’ve put into planting and maintaining them. 

This task is not hard per se, it’s just kind of a pain in the ass.  Unrolling, then rerolling, the hoses on both sides of the house to water the sides and the front.  Threading the hose on one side of the house through a notch in the fence. Then walking through the house to water the plants in the back.

Moment of Gratitude

A few nights ago, as I finished hand watering and rolling up the last hose, I paused before I walked back in the front door and felt a warm feeling spreading over me.  And it wasn’t due to the ridiculous feels like temp.  In that moment, the thought that popped to mind was how lucky I was to have my own little house in my own little corner of the world.  The feeling was gratitude.

I stood there for a minute and just grinned as I savored that unbidden feeling just a bit longer.  Once it subsided, I walked through the front door, transported from my magical moment back into my air-conditioned reality.  But the feeling and the thought stayed with me throughout the evening.

There was just something about that moment that stuck with me.  I think the biggest source of amazement and fascination for me is that it was so unexpected.  I wasn’t trying to feel thankful or grateful.  I wasn’t even thinking about my house at all.  In fact, I don’t even know what I WAS thinking about.

Think This, Not That

I know what I probably wasn’t thinking about though.  That sometimes I hate summer in Florida.  How hot and miserable I was feeling, sweat dripping down my face chest and back, even though I was barely moving.  How annoyed I was at having to roll the hoses back up, getting my hands dirty from touching the hose or my feet dirty from stepping on wet dirt.

Nope, wasn’t thinking about any of that.  I was just unrolling, watering, rerolling, unrolling, watering, threading, watering and rerolling.  Totally accepting and absorbed in my circumstance at that particular moment in time.  I wasn’t trying to rush or change it in any way.  I was just there, in the moment.

And in that moment, the tough exterior that surrounds my awareness cracked open just enough to allow a beautiful moment of gratitude to seep in.

Back to the Future (and Past)

I think that’s the reason I don’t have more of these moments.  My mind is normally so active.  Not always thinking about the things that are annoying me at the moment (that was just to amp up the drama a bit).  My mind is full of thoughts about what I’m doing next, whether that be the next minute, the next hour, the next day or even next year. 

Sometimes my mind travels back to the past and that can get interesting.  Rarely does it bring up all the happy memories, moments of pride, joy and excitement.  No, it prefers to resurrect the no so happy ones.  You know, the kind filled with failure shame and regret.  The perfect comeback that would have won that argument back in 1997.

My moment of unexpected gratitude did not come from anxious thoughts of the future.  It didn’t come from ruminating about my past.  It didn’t come as I wrote a top 100 list of all the people and things I’m thankful for.

The Gift of Presence

It just came in a moment where I wasn’t trying to do anything at all with the exception of keeping my plants alive.  Completely in the moment, watching the water shower gently over the thirsty cactus, succulents, palms and pineapples.  Watching as the river rock pebbles turned from dry and dull to wet and vibrant as the water washed over them.

Ooh, I’d love to have the moment back right now.  To feel that warm glow spread out from the center of my chest.  Just like the Grinch, my small heart growing three sizes in an instant.

That’s the lesson here for me though.  I can’t force gratitude.  Or put it on a shelf and take it down whenever I want some.  I can’t conjure it up by sheer effort.

Gratitude catches me unawares when I allow myself to be fully present, fully now, fully open, without expectation or motive.

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Betsy is a certified life coach and blogger who helps midlife women find satisfaction where they are now and inspiration to go after their big goals.

To learn more about working with Betsy, click here.