#81 The Gratitude Trap 7/09

A story based in the South during slavery that I came across recently was
particularly effective in creating believable owners. They were convinced
that they were doing those who were enslaved a favor by taking care of
them--and when gratitude was not forthcoming, they felt hurt, misunderstood,
and ill-used.

This may be an extreme example, but the expectation of gratitude continues
to trap us. Parents who give their children everything can’t understand why
they aren’t more grateful. Superpowers that send money to poor countries
are surprised to find themselves disliked. Philanthropists and missionaries
who labor to save bodies and souls wonder why the recipients of their good
intentions are not always thankful.

What’s the problem with knowing how to help people, having the means to do
so, and then getting to bask in the glow of righteousness? The keys are in
the “knowing” and “having the means”. As a species, we seem to have a low
tolerance for people who know what’s best for us--and one party having the
means implies that the other does not. The power is unequal, and those who
have less would often prefer to address that power imbalance than to help
those who have more to feel confirmed in their benevolence.

Now this isn’t to say that there’s no place for gratitude in the world. I
believe that our lives go better whenever we can notice what we’re grateful
for. I would encourage everybody to fill up their moments with gratitude,
open their hearts and souls and minds to everything, little and small, for
which they can give thanks.

But whenever we hear a voice saying that “they should be grateful for all
that we’ve done”--inside our heads, or in the world around us--something is
not right. It’s the “should” that is the trap. Gratitude is not an
obligation. It is a feeling that grows from inside us, freely felt and
freely shared. We can be grateful for the opportunity to be connected, to
learn about other people’s lives, to share, to be of use; we can be grateful
for loving friends and thoughtful gifts. But if we try to extort gratitude
from someone else, what we get, if we get it at all, is a cheap and ugly
substitute. Everyone would be better off if we went for the real thing.




Safe place

Close your eyes
imagine your safe place
she tells the group
in that dreamy voice
of a guided meditation.
It could be any time, any place
real, or just alive in your mind.
Think of how it looks, feels, smells
this safe place of yours.

Now open your eyes
and draw.

I am surprised
but the image is clear.
I draw the street and cars
the red brick of the portal
where the trolleys
go underground
the strip of grass, trees, flowers
in between…
my safe place.

Why this spot
street’s edge
trolleys rumbling
the chaos of weeds and trash
always encroaching?

I have claimed this piece of earth
slowly brought order
from a tangled wilderness.
I know its look, its feel
have watched and weeded through the seasons
dug deeply in the earth
loved, brought forth living beauty.
I am grounded here.

Grounded and connected
(alone is safe--but separate
and separate has been my enemy).
When those who pass by share a word
it’s always one of blessing.
They bring no burden of need
no disappointments to ward off.
Centered, in myself, yet not alone
I rest.

Here I can do only good.
Any weed I pull
adds to the beauty of this street.
As I feed myself
I get the greatest gift of all—
to be of use.

These are times to treasure, when
sprung from inside
from work and obligations
I grab the shovel at the door
breathe deeply of the out-of-doors
take in the sky
and step out lightly
toward my place at the portal.