Today, my practice began in stillness: no grand intentions, no expectations, just a quiet moment to settle on my mat. And as I moved, something stirred within me. Not a thought, but a presence. It started softly, a hum beneath my ribs, spreading until it wrapped around my chest. My breath slowed, and without warning, my eyes brimmed with tears.
My mind, ever eager to intervene, rushed in. What is this? What’s happening? It demanded a label, a reason. It didn’t want to trust the feeling, raw and unfiltered. Surely, emotions must be understood to be valid, right?
But before my mind could grasp it, the feeling had already spoken. It wasn’t logic or explanation: it was gratitude. Not the polite, practiced kind, but something deeper. Something ancient. It was gratitude for the breath filling my lungs. For the space I had claimed for myself today. For this body, imperfect yet so faithful. For the people I love, for the shelter that keeps me safe, for the moments I’ve lived that led me here.
And yet, a part of me resisted. My mind wasn’t satisfied. Gratitude is so simple, it argued. Shouldn’t I be solving something, fixing something, achieving something? My mind wanted to pull me forward, away from the moment, into a cycle of questioning and doing. But the feeling wouldn’t let go.
I realized then that gratitude isn’t about the mind. It’s not something to be figured out. It’s something to feel. Something to practice, over and over, until it becomes second nature. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that. I’d let the busy-ness of life dull my connection to it. Gratitude, I realized, is like a muscle. If you don’t use it, it weakens. If you don’t nurture it, it fades into the background.
So, I’ve decided to begin again. Not with big declarations, but with small moments. A pause before my first sip of tea. A silent thank-you as I step into the day. A breath of acknowledgment before I drift to sleep. These are the moments where gratitude lives, not as a grand performance, but as a quiet truth.
The next time my mind steps forward, eager to solve or explain, I’ll pause. I’ll ask myself: Is this a moment to think, or a moment to feel?
And I’ll let the answer unfold, somewhere between an inhale and an exhale.
Yoga and Gratitude
Yoga philosophy offers us powerful tools for cultivating gratitude, particularly through the concept of aparigraha (non-attachment), one of the Yamas in the Yoga Sutras. Aparigraha teaches us to release our grip on material possessions, expectations, and the constant craving for “more.” By letting go, we create space for gratitude to flourish.
In my practice, this often appears as a quiet realization during Savasana or a heart-opening pose. When I stop striving and simply am, gratitude arises naturally. It’s not forced; it’s a byproduct of being fully present with my body and breath.
Yoga also fosters mindfulness—the ability to focus on the current moment—and gratitude thrives in this space. When we’re no longer consumed by the past or future, we can see and appreciate the gifts that exist right now.
Weekly Gratitude Check-In
To help you cultivate gratitude consistently, here are five simple questions to reflect on each week. You can use them as journaling prompts or simply take a quiet moment to ponder them:
- In the past week, what made you smile?
- When did you feel joy most vividly in the past week?
- When did you feel most connected to yourself?
- What refreshes you during these winter days?
- Who are you grateful for in your life? Can you share that gratitude with them?
