Awake
I didn’t know what I was going to post today. As soon as I woke up this morning, I thought about the word. All day, I’ve been searching for song lyrics, and I’m currently reading the book “When Cranes Fly South.” I took two bad photos of Brigid and Tecumseh sleeping, hoping to incorporate some wordplay.
But I’ve got nothing.
Or so I thought, until I listened to a podcast about gratitude. I don’t listen to many podcasts – and as a millennial, I’m low-key embarrassed to admit that because it’s not really my vibe! But one of the three I do listen to is This Jungian Life. [If you click on the title, it’ll take you to the episode via the web.] The latest episode is about gratitude and reverence. Timely, right, since we recently celebrated Thanksgiving.
Anyway, the thrust of the episode examines those moments in our life when the ‘thank you’ we offer to a mentor, parent, lover, or someone who showed up for us when we needed it the most carries weight. To explain what I mean, I’ll quote them:
Psychologically, gratitude begins when you realize that something you value like safety, opportunity, love, or time rests on someone else’s effort or sacrifice. Your attention shifts: instead of scanning only for problems, your mind also starts to appreciate the hands that hold you up. The emotional tone usually includes warmth, humility, and a sense of being remembered or kept in mind by another person.
What I appreciate about this view of gratitude and its respectful attitude is that it allows us to hold the tension between recognizing that hardships and loss are real while also acknowledging those who support us. There is an ethic to gratitude because it helps us see how people witness our lives – it enables us to honor the bridges that connect us in our relationships. Or as Deb and Lisa put it, “gratitude acts as a bridge between inner life and relationships: it shapes how you orient to family, friends, institutions, and even strangers who maintain the systems you depend on.”
Now, if you’ve made it this far, you’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with ‘awake.’
Good question.
What you’ll find here in these reflections will sometimes include definitions of words. So, a quick search of "awake" means... you ready for this... "stop sleeping; wake from sleep.” For those of you who are like my seventh-grade science teacher, who said, “Never use the word in a definition,” awake can also mean, “become aware of; come to a realization of; regain consciousness.”
So, what did I wake up to today? Gratitude.
I’ll conclude with this reflection on how easy it is to succumb to despair and negativity, especially during difficult times—something many of us experience. Today, a new favorite poet of mine shared an honest message on Instagram: “God bless the ones who hiss at any hint of hope, bless the ones using whatever they can to cope with it all.” If that resonates with you, know that’s enough. This inspired my ‘awakening’ today—those words reminded me that I am part of something much larger and more beautiful—a Love that encompasses and energizes everything. It led me to gratitude, echoing Deb and Lisa’s insight: “Gratitude is a recognition that life has been shaped in dialogue with something larger than personal will.”
Advent is preparing us for what we already know -- God's 'yes' to us -- and there's so much to revere in this life.
So here is a brief list of things that awaken me to the larger Conversation [logos] of which I am a part:
- The way Tecumseh lays his head on my chest first thing in the morning
- A friend confiding in others that this season feels heavy and that we be mindful of them [read: vulnerability & community]
- A parishioner asking how I’m doing
- Fresh snow on a trail only disrupted by Deer tracks
- Someone sharing a new idea for Kirk Night, and both of us geeking out over it
- The Ministry of the Hands Meeting and C.M.’s extravagant hospitality
- A text from my mom
- The book “When Cranes Fly South”
- Did I mention snow?
- And you, even if it’s just my mom, who took time to read this post
Goodness. Awake. Turns out I had something more than nothing.
