ALANDA GREENE meditates on gratitude and reciprocity, finding ways to honor life's preciousness without denying its suffering.
A Creston woman recently recounted her experience in a check-out line. Behind her, two young men had few items; she waved them ahead. When she came forward to pay, the cashier said she owed nothing. The two young men had paid her bill. Overwhelmed and grateful for their kindness, she resolved to repeat their generosity for another. A friend who heard her story also promised to do the same. Gratitude inspires and begets more of itself. Biologist Robin Wall Kimmerer observes, “If our first response is gratitude, then our second is reciprocity: to give a gift in return.”
Last autumn, returning from an exhilarating visit to southern Alberta, I felt huge gratitude for the richness and magic of these days. Their precious gift brought refreshed focus to strengthen my effort to care for our Earth, to serve and honor this land.
Attending an evening service [satsang] at Yasodhara Ashram, a suggestion was offered to feel thankful for the gift of a human birth. Though I had not before understood why this is something to feel gratitude for, I did feel it. Suddenly, understanding emerged that with a human birth, I have the gift of choice, the opportunity to consciously evolve and thereby to be of use, to contribute, to offer service.
Sometimes I meet advice to be thankful for everything that happens. This I do not yet understand. So much suffering, loss, illness, death—I mourn for the beings who experience this. How can I feel grateful for it? But what I do understand is to use these events to remember that pain, loss, and despair, regardless of their source, are part of life. Remembering this brings forth questions: what then is important? How does one live? My own death will come, its time unknown, as it will for all living things. I can remember to offer kindness, compassion. I feel no gratitude for the increasing pain and distress in our world. But I can use these opportunities to send prayer in whatever form it is understood—words, heartfelt feelings, light—and remember the preciousness of this gift of life, its impermanence, fragility, precariousness. From the Isha Upanishad of ancient India comes the exhortation: O my soul, remember past strivings. Remember.
Gratitude brings gifts. Perhaps this understanding prompted Meister Eckhardt’s words, “If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.”
Gratitude brings gifts. Perhaps this understanding
prompted Meister Eckhardt’s words, “If the only prayer you
ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.”
Alanda Greene
