Gratitude Is An Inhale

Do you ever notice your mind riding an "I wonder" thought train? I find myself on these trains often, that is when my brain isn't in an "I live in a musical" mindset. Thought trains take me everywhere and nowhere, which is the destination yoga calls Self. Self is the you that is bigger than the shell of your body. It's the observer that watches the observer.

My thought train this week bubbled up from loss. My mother-in-law passed away unexpectedly. She was a bigger than life person, who embodied many qualities that I admire - generosity, humor, kindness, and intelligence. She was the one who taught me about the f*ck-you 50s (so love them by the way), the one who drilled her favorite mantra, love yourself warts and all, into my head and heart.

Her death made me wonder about gratitude and beginnings and endings and breathing. I wondered if they are not separate things but perhaps have connection similar to the way the muscles and bones in our bodies have connection and continuity.

We all know and perhaps at times we all forget that our lives are framed by our first and last breath. These two breaths, the only certainties in life, are a beginning and an end that we all have experienced through the birth and death of loved ones.

Between those two points are many beginnings and endings that we do and do not notice, that we do not see coming until they arrive or after they have come to pass. When was the last time I read a story to my children, or sang them a bedtime song? I have no idea. Or when will be the last time I have to ask them to put their dishes in the dishwasher? Again, no idea. But I do remember what their first day of school felt like, and how we celebrated their last day of high school. And there are other firsts, and when I look back, endings that I remember firmly.

One of the purposes of yoga practice is to awaken to now, to the space between beginnings and endings because that is where the stuff of life happens.

Gratitude, what does it actually mean to be grateful? (Remember this is a thought train, I don't have any answers, and you don't have to agree with me, as I'm not an expert on any of this).

Why is gratitude sometimes used as a way to silence pain and anger? And why are we shamed when we don't feel grateful? Can we control when we feel truly grateful or does it rise and fall like the breath?

What if gratitude is an inhale that arises after an exhale? A beginning after an end? What if loss creates space to acknowledge endings and beginnings? The breath of grief, loss, ending is a long exhale followed by a short, jagged gasp of inhale. Does the breath of loss empty the cup of your heart or does it dig a deeper well? This is the thought train of my mind. Again, I don't have the answers. But I do like the idea of gratitude as an inhale. Let me explain why.

When I get on my mat or on my paddle board I am often aware of a first breath that takes in the moment. It comes after my exhale and marks the beginning of an adventure into the unknown. I feel awake, alive, and a deep sense of appreciation that is free and deeply rooted in my biggest Self.

I hope you find your own answers to the question, what is gratitude, I think there are many. Thank you for listening to mine.

Sending love from my mat to yours.

Namaste,

Kathryn