On being grateful -- This will be cheesy

I thought I was going to die.  It was painfully hot.  My backpack -- almost as tall as me -- was digging into my shoulders.  Our water supply was low. We had miscounted our distance and missed a checkpoint.  We huddled in the shade of an indent in the mountain, and started to write our wills.  Occasionally one of us blew the whistle that was supposed to bring help.

**

Throughout high school I was in a hiking program called International Award (IA) in which we learned to navigate with maps, rely on teammates, and camp out with only the items we carried on our backs.

During the three+day hike, each team had a map with various checkpoints we had to hit, ending in the campsite which all the groups shared.  Each day consisted of over 10 hours of walking through desert, wadis, and mountains, with our backpacks stuffed with clothing, food, stoves, tents, and sleeping bags.  Everything was a team effort -- deciphering the map, figuring out the route and how long it would take, the breaks we could afford -- and group bonding was inevitable. We slowed down to accommodate different paces, we invented and sang songs, we carried each other's supplies and bandaged each other's blistered feet with moleskin.

In preparation for this hike, our instructor/leader (also our PE teacher), prepped us on what to expect and how important the team mentality was.  She ended with these words:

"Don't complain.  One person complaining will affect the mood of the whole group and bring you down in ways that will affect you deeply."

It was simple, obvious advice, but it resonated with me.  And I saw how accurate it was, when, as we slogged through endless hours in unforgiving sun, the mood of our group managed to stay fairly positive.  We were hot, we were hurting, we were unused to the physical strain of our gigantic packs; but we were in it together.  Nobody brought up how tired or hot or slow we were.  We just kept going.  Sometimes we were silent, sometimes -- after a rare break -- we sang, conversed, smiled.  If someone had spent the days complaining, it would have added to my burdens, reminded me of my complaints, and made the trip generally intolerable.  It would, indeed, have brought the whole team down.

When we hit the low point I described earlier -- several hours off the map, low water supply, completely fatigued and discouraged -- we got through it.  (Jokingly starting to write my will was quite fun...)

It's crazy how one person can affect the moods of those around him/her.  It's an odd responsibility we have in life -- the responsibility to remember that our actions and words have an impact on those around us.  We are not islands.

**

When I was 14, I went to a music camp in Pennsylvania which was filled with enough extremely talented musicians to make me feel sufficiently untalented.  But it didn't matter, because they made such beautiful noises with their breaths and hands and fingers.

A counselor pinpointed a verse "Do everything without complaining and arguing..." and challenged us to try it for a day.  A day of accepting, working with things, smiling when frustrated.

Try it.  Try to go a day without complaining or arguing.  Don't get me wrong -- arguing/discussing is how I process, and complaining also has a time and place.  But, try it.  It was startling to me how often I complained and argued about unnecessary, unimportant things.  How the negativity spreads, even silly negativity, and impacts the people around you, hangs in the air, lingers on chairs and counters.

It was similar to when I decided to be conscientious of how often I misused the word "like".  Scary.

Moderation.  

**

A couple months ago, some of my new friends were doing a Gratitude Project on Facebook where they made brief lists of the little things that they were grateful for that day.  These ranged from simple pleasures -- hot cocoa on rainy days -- to big things: friends who accept me for myself.

The gratitude was contagious.  It almost wasn't a choice for me: I started making my own daily lists and posting them as statuses.  It probably seemed obnoxiously Pollyanna of me, but the truth was that making the lists was helping me see all of the good and beauty in my life.  I did it for me, but wanted to share with others, because speaking truth and positivity into people's lives is as powerful as complaining.

And even more powerful is taking the negative aspects of your day and putting them on a list of gratitude... 

I'm grateful for:

I'm grateful that my non-heated classroom allows me to wear cute hats and gloves allthetimealways.

I'm grateful that distance allows me to appreciate my loved ones in ways I couldn't if I were around them constantly.

I'm grateful that when I feel out of control I know that I'm not meant to be in control.

I'm grateful that I don't have a piano because it's forced me to practice guitar.

I'm grateful that when bad things happen to me, they help me relate to others who have gone through the same.

I'm grateful that I'm uncertain of so much, because it brings into relief what I am certain of.

I'm grateful for the horrifying things that my kids do that turn into great stories.

**

On Thursday, my friends and I shared a Thanksgiving dinner.  The 12 of us seeped into the corners and surfaces of a small apartment, and we went around the group sharing what we were thankful for.

These 12 people were all friendships I had made in the last seven months.  And they have enriched and impacted my time in Korea such that I cannot imagine living here without them.  Actually, I can; I did it for a month when I first arrived -- and while I enjoyed becoming acquainted with Korea, and with myself, my life here would have been extremely desolate without them.

Five of the group eating on the bed.

And it's not that I know them all on a deeply personal level.  Some of them I do, but others I know only a laughing, bantering, goofball level -- and it's still beautiful.  Company, laughter, time spent, occasions shared: these are also important friendships.

Everyone had thoughtful, humorous, kind things to be thankful for.  Many of them mentioned our dinner club (we meet weekly) and the friendships within.  One friend said she was thankful that we couldn't time travel because it meant we always had to live in the present.  Another friend had written out a speech -- yes a speech -- which he read (which I will not repeat here, as it including a few minor faux pas I may or may not frequently commit).

It got to me and I mumbled something about family, friends, and health.  Or something.  I'm not too excellent with words in real life.  Especially when I'm feeling sentimental.  But I love them all so much.  I don't even know why.

I want to shrink them all down and put them on a keychain to carry with me around the world. 

**

When I try to count my endless blessings, I am inevitably reminded that they are not of myself.  That's why they are blessings -- they have been given to me.  Gifts.  And when I remember this, I want to give back.

Maggie Doyne is a girl who took a gap year after high school, traveling across the world, and ended up moving to Nepal, starting an orphanage/school and changing lives.  Her story is amazing:





Thanksgiving.   Sometimes I get hung up on where or how to give.  But the following two places are run by honest, crazy hard working people, and I have no qualms about sending them money. 

Maggie Doyne's home.


The Indian orphanage my brother volunteered at.

$10 buys a kid a backpack with school supplies...$75 feeds a kid lunch for a year. 

**

And now, I will go spend some time reading 1000 Awesome Things.  You should too.

Posted in: bucket lists, class projects, complaining, gratitude, international award, maggie doyne, thankfulness