Originally published at Ignatian Spirituality
When the word gratitude is mentioned, I am instantly transported back to watching sitcoms during the ’70s and ’80s, when a hysterical character is slapped across the face. The unexpected action, carried out by a trusted friend or colleague, appears to break the hysteria and bring the startled person into a calmer frame of mind. Why does gratitude remind me of a cinematic slap? Let me explain.
I have been a 12-stepper for 14 years. Because the other members of the group shared their stories with such honesty and vulnerability, I felt safe enough to share our story. I remember sharing one bit of information and looking around the circle to see if there was judgment on any of the faces. When there was only a knowing glance in return, I shared more. With time, I became comfortable with the group and fell into a habit of complaining about my family members who were affected by addiction. Like other family members, I didn’t want to deal with this problem, and I was having a hard time accepting it.
An older lady stopped me mid-sentence and asked me to come back the next week with a gratitude list. Her request felt
