Grounded in Gratitude: A Reflection for Blue Monday

Today, the third Monday in January, is "Blue Monday" - supposedly the most miserable day of the year - although since this was first posited by a travel company back in 2005, I suspect they were just trying to sell us some "winter sun" holidays - or am I getting cynical in my old age? Nevertheless, I do not know anyone in the northern hemisphere who says that January is their favourite month. In the UK, and many other places, it is cold, it is dark, it is damp. But does it have its own special beauty? Can we find joy in this time?

Writer and herbalist, Brigit Anna McNeill, certainly thinks so. She writes, “I love the dark quiet bareness of winter, the silence and stillness, reminding me as it does, to find my own quiet, to strip away the busyness, so I too can find the darkness of my soil and my heart... It is easy to think that spring rescues us from winter, that it arrives in spite of winter. When really, spring arrives because of winter. The darkness, the rot, the quiet, all gently tending those to come, midwifing life into being.”

“Spring arrives because of winter” is something I have been trying to take to heart. When I was younger, I used to do the same thing every January – I would allow myself to become caught up in all the New Year, New You hype – and start far too many new things and make far too many plans – and by the end of the month, I would be burned out, exhausted and feeling like a failure. In trying to completely reinvent myself I ended up making the same mistake again and again – falling into the trap that the Prophet Isaiah warned against, going over and over old ground, and grinding the grain endlessly. I am sure I am not the only one to have had this experience!

I think that as a society, perhaps we have forgotten the value of “the dark quiet bareness of winter.” I am certainly guilty. My favourite seasons are spring and autumn, when everything in nature is changing, and the days are full of colour and light and activity. I find the cold, damp, dark days of January much less appealing! But, these days, I try to resist the allure of New Year, New You and avoiding “Springing into Action” too soon. It is still winter and will be for some time yet. Winter, like every season, cannot be rushed.. The work of growth and transformation cannot be rushed. As Marge Piercy reminded us in her poem The Seven of Pentacles, we must pay it due care and attention, tending and nurturing ourselves and others, and only then may we trust that the harvest will come.

When we plough, we turn over the soil and expose the things that have been hidden under the surface – all the juicy earthworms and bugs that feed the birds. When we tune into our deep consciousness – through meditation or dream work perhaps – when we take time to turn over the soil of our lives, what treasures might we find there?

The elaborate Anglo-Saxon Acerblot Old English Field Remedy ritual for blessing the land might seem quite strange to us in this day and age, partly because we are less dependent on the farmland in our immediate vicinity to feed us. But, in its intention I do not think it is so far removed from some of the rituals we still perform today. It reminded me that our words and our actions are equally important. And it invites us to pay attention to our whole being, body mind and soul, and to the earth on which we all depend. “Where your attention goes, your energy flows,” as my yoga teacher is fond of saying. 

How do you nurture yourself in these cold, dark days? I try to listen to my body's demands for more rest, and to remind myself that, however much I may resist, it is in stillness and silence, in deepening into the mystery of being rather than doing, that the magic happens. Spring does not come without the winter and the harvest does not come without the ploughing. 

I now think of January as a time of careful preparation for the more active times of spring and summer - “proper preparation prevents poor performance,” as my manager husband is fond of saying! It is a time to go slowly and let nature take its course in its own sweet time; a time to heed Marge Piercy's words, “if you tend them properly.. the plants flourish, but at their own internal clock.”

Now, instead of making many New Year's resolutions that I will never stick to, I try to deepen into one spiritual practice that brings me joy and helps me flourish. This year my focus is on developing gratitude, inspired by the words of the medieval mystic, Meister Eckhart, “If the only prayer you said in your life was 'thank you' it would be enough.”

Gratitude has long been recognized as a transformative spiritual practice, fundamental to cultivating a healthy spiritual life of meaning and fulfilment. Cicero, a philosopher in ancient Rome, said, “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.”

Each morning, as soon as I rise from my bed, I bow and give thanks for the day, and spend a few minutes in prayer. During the day, I try to remember to say thank you to everyone I speak to, and to let my loved ones know I appreciate them. Before I lie down to sleep, I use my own version of the Ignatian Examen prayer format to help me reflect on my day. I begin my reflections by thinking of at least three things from the day for which I am grateful, and I give thanks for those. I consider what was difficult and ask for guidance on anything that is troubling me. I end by giving thanks for the day.

I find it life-enhancing to intentionally cultivate gratitude as a spiritual discipline with these simple practices. Gratitude enables us to recognise, appreciate and savour the goodness in life – the simple pleasures, the beauty of nature, the kindness of strangers, the love of family and friends – and to express our thanks in words and actions. 

There are many ways to cultivate gratitude as a spiritual practice in everyday life. You may like to create your own simple morning and evening gratitude rituals, or keep a gratitude journal, or build gratitude into your regular meditation or prayer practice, or create a gratitude jar, which you fill with notes of the things for which you are thankful, as well as taking the time to express your appreciation of others.

It can sometimes be hard to feel grateful, for a variety of reasons – if we are ill or in pain, or if we have worries that preoccupy our minds. Perhaps we are in the habit of noticing more negatives than positives. Perhaps we may have unrealistic expectations, or compare ourselves to others. Sometimes we may just become busy and distracted, and no longer notice our blessings.

Mindfully returning to gratitude helps me to notice and be thankful for all the simple but wonderful things in life – like sunrises and sunsets, the buds on the trees, nourishing food, good conversation, canine company, human care, spiritual community. That is not to say that I ignore the bad things in life, the problems and difficulties, but the more intentionally I cultivate gratitude, the less they overwhelm me, the stronger I feel, and the more patient I am with myself and others. Sometimes I may even be grateful for the hard times, for the lessons they have given me, and the growth and wisdom they have left in their wake. 

Research has shown that gratitude as spiritual practice brings many benefits, improving our mood and mental well-being, increasing our feelings of happiness, decreasing our stress and anxiety, improving our sleep, increasing our resilience, increasing our compassion for ourselves and others, and enabling us to enjoy more harmonious relationships. 

“It is not happiness that makes us grateful. It's gratefulness that makes us happy,” said the Benedictine monk and founder of A Network for Grateful Living, Brother David Steindl-Rast.

As the bible tells us many times, we reap what we sow. Our relationships need to be tended and nurtured to flourish. As the Prophet Isaiah said, the farmer plants each seed according to its specifications, and puts each type of seed where it grows best. Humans usually grow best in loving communities, who meet our individual needs and encourage our unique gifts. We all need to give and receive love and care.  

Let us take Marge Piercy's advice and “weave real connections... keep reaching out, keep bringing in.”

Let us cultivate gratefulness for all the goodness in our lives and in the world.

Let us be thankful for the fertile land, for our food and the farmers who grow it, for our gardens and gardeners.

Let us be grateful for all those who cultivate community, who weave connections, who labour for the common good.

Let us honour the natural cycles of the earth and of our lives.

Let us be grateful for all the ways we care for ourselves, for each other, and for our precious earth.

Let us be thankful for the sowing and reaping of tender loving kindness in our daily lives. 

Here is my January prayer for you: 

Don't feel obliged to spring into action just yet. Give yourself time to prepare the ground, to do the work of tilling and tending to your soul, and to nurture your relationships, and in the fullness of time, you will surely harvest the fruits of the spirit – you will find yourself blessed with patience, kindness, and gentleness, and live in love, joy, and peace. Amen and Blessed Be. 

Choose Wisely, Choose Love: A Reflection for Epiphany

 “Choice is your greatest power. It is an even greater power than love, because you must first choose to be a loving person.” Caroline Myss

At New Year, we may be thinking about our choices. We do not know what this year will bring us, but we do know that we will have choices as to how we respond. We can choose to be a loving person. We can choose to see the best in others.

After the Chorlton Unitarians carol service in December, when we were enjoying mulled wine and mince pies, one of the attendees told me his own 'three wise men' story – many years ago, he was cycling home late at night after a party, when he was very drunk. On his way through a rough part of Manchester he saw three young men approaching and, from their appearance, worried that he was about to be mugged. He became so frightened, that he fell off his bike. As he hit the ground, the men ran up to him, and he feared the worst. But they picked him up, dusted him down, reunited him with his bicycle and wished him well as he rode away, by now feeling rather ashamed of his assumptions. Never judge a book by its cover, he concluded. “That's going in my sermon!” I told him.

Similarly, in Home by Another Way - Barbara Brown-Taylor's adaptation of the story of the wise men from the Gospel of Matthew, the magi had their expectations confounded. They thought they were seeking a king, not expecting to find a small and simple family in a small and simple house. They brought expensive gifts and received simple gifts, which shifted their perspective, and allowed them to see how they might make different choices and have different priorities. May we be open to having our expectations confounded and being changed by experiencing the unexpected. 

“For the scent and weight and skin of a baby,” said the first wise man, who had no interest in living on herbs anymore.” May we delight in the sensual pleasures of our embodied existence, using all our senses to savour our lives.

“For this home and the love here,” said the second wise man, who could not remember how to say it in the ancient language.” May we be grateful for hospitality, for love and affection, for all the spaces in which we feel at home.

“For a really great story,” said the third wise man, who thought that telling it might do a lot more for him than walking on hot coals.” May we share with others the experiences that touch our hearts and change us, and may we listen well to the stories that others tell us.

In Wise Women Also Came by Jan Richardson, we hear the story that wasn't told in the Gospel of Matthew, the story of the wise women, the midwives, who, she imagined, helped Mary in her labour, and brought useful gifts for her and her baby – water for washing, fire for light and warmth, and a blanket to wrap him in. May we too listen for the stories behind the stories, the unseen and unheard, the unsung heroines whose gifts go uncelebrated, but are absolutely what is needed in the moment. May we look for the magic in the ordinary. 

A mother birthing and nursing her child is the oldest and most ordinary story in the world, but it is also the most magical. Every new life is a miracle. Every family is a holy family.  And love is our birthright. Every one of us deserves love, for we are all children of God. 

Sometimes love too comes in unexpected ways. “Wise One, drop the reins and let the camel guide you. Follow the rising falling animal in your chest. To be wise, after all, is to be led..” wrote Fred Lamotte, in his poem Magi. Over Christmas I watched a documentary film about Gordon Buchanan, the wildlife cameraman, crossing the Gobi desert with two camels. He had to let the camels guide him, as they were the ones who knew how to survive and thrive in the desert. At first, he was quite scared of the camels and the camels were suspicious of him, but over time, they developed a relationship of mutual trust and affection. May we be willing to take a chance with those who take us outside our comfort zone.

Over the Christmas period I have been taking the opportunity to go outside my comfort zone and visit different churches local to where I live to experience their services. On Christmas Eve, I went to the local Roman Catholic church for their evening mass. Mass was preceded by half an hour of carol singing, which I loved, but when the mass began, I found myself inwardly squirming at the frequent mentions of sin. But then I started to notice the warmth of fellowship in this church full of people singing and smiling, especially during the 'sign of peace', when people shake hands with their neighbours in the pews and say, 'may peace be with you.' I began to relax into the beauty and simplicity of the liturgy, and not let my theological differences with it bother me. I left feeling blessed by the spirit of Christmas. 

We can always choose to see things differently. At a recent online Unitarian Christian Association gathering I attended, someone said, “When I don't agree with something, I try to see windows rather than walls.” What a wonderful motto.

May we keep choosing to be led by love, choosing to be open to change, choosing windows over walls. Amen and Blessed Be.