Gratitude Diary? Maybe...

Definitely Bridge Pose.

Dec 11, 2008

So I think I might need to keep a Gratitude Diary.

I recently posted a piece on the power of intentional gratitude , in honor of the Thanksgiving holiday. But I might need to prescribe myself a stronger medicine than the occasional gratitude booster shot. My whole gratitude mechanism could use a period of daily maintenance about now.

This became clear to me because of an argument I had with my sister recently over the phone. I won't bore you with the details, but it was a classic adult-sibling spat, about lifestyle choices and finances and staying out of one another's business.

I live far away from my sister, and I miss her daily. Our relationship is generally rich with friendliness, kindness and humor. We are friends, even though the choices we make for our lives sometimes seem to be in stark contrast. After we argued I felt just terrible, but it made me see how limited my experience of myself must have been, in order for us to have exchanged such harsh words. I had been seeing only the parts of us that were different, that were at odds. My awareness capacity was not up to the task of holding the fullness of our relationship within it.

I'm not sure what a gratitude diary is, exactly. I stumbled across the term a couple of days ago, and the idea of a special journal designated just for saying thank you strikes me as a timely reminder to count my blessings. I suppose it is a book where I would name the gifts of my life in writing. Another form of mindfulness practice , naming the gifts of our lives encourages our awareness to spread out and occupy a greater portion of our being.

Do you fill up your gratitude diary, or does it fill you up?

It's a beautiful thought to linger on - as we grow closer to the effulgent light that we are, that light reflects more brightly within us, projected on the screen of our embodied being. And as that reflected light grows brighter, our embodied self is able to "see" more of its completeness. The experience of that amplified perception is one of expanding consciousness.

Perceiving more feels like becoming more.

Practices like mindfulness and intentional gratitude build the muscles of our perceiving minds, empowering them to eventually broaden on their own - you fill them up, with experience or thought or even visualization, and then you fill them some more and they expand, and now you have more room to fill them up with more of what you choose. It's like the work we do with the breath. You can think of it as calibrating yourself for the realization of your potential.

When we do yoga, we practice these skills with our bodies. Our bones and muscles are made of the same sparkling light of divine intelligence that makes up our minds and hearts - just a denser version of it. Practicing expansion in your body reminds the rest of you what's possible. It's like a trickle up theory.

Think about it. Have you ever had a massage, or taken a walk or a swim, and then found you had more spaciousness for the needs of others? You move your body, and your awareness of your body broadens. Then your mind broadens, and your heart. And it works both ways - think of the last time you were transfixed by a sunset, only to find that the nagging tension in your back or neck, or your clenching jaw muscles, had slackened a bit afterward.

The pose that called me from this place of self reflection was bridge pose. Bridge pose can be as deep a pose as you want it or need it to be, and it won't take me away from my intention to minimize strain on my neck as it heals. Humble and courageous, bridge pose uses the strength of your commitment in your legs and shoulders to create a steady foundation that cradles the heart as it opens at its own pace.

Gratitude diary? Maybe. Writing things down can be a powerful and transformative exercise in itself. But definitely bridge pose. Doing yoga poses is like writing in the body.

I've been doing long repeated holds in this posture. I imagine the river of consciousness gently flowing beneath and through me. As I become aware of its vastness, ever expanding, I name the many gifts of my life. I am so grateful, for example, that my sister and I care enough about each other to bother being bossy sometimes. That we have an intimacy that so easily lays bare our vulnerabilities. And I am so grateful for the teachings of this practice.

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