Clenching the Well

Oh, dear gratitude.  I know how incredibly important you are and perhaps this is why you have eluded me.  When I have practiced you, my mind has felt mechanical and I am afraid to say disingenuous at times.

Until recently I would only really do a gratitude practice at lunch time (my one quiet meal of the day (if the stars aligned properly)).  I would go through the food on my plate and muster whatever gratitude that I could for the avocado, lettuce, chip.  When I began this practice a couple of months ago I would try to go deeper with the food and think about where it came from; the earth and the hands that touched it on its way to my plate.  But lately I have been rushing through my gratitudes like a grocery list.  And then there was that thought behind my gratitudes, "Hurry Up!"

So, knowing how important gratitude is, I began to ramp up my practice just a bit.  I started listing off gratitudes in bed right before going to sleep.  If nothing else, this was a sweet way to end the day and quickly I would be fast asleep.  Perhaps because this was the last thing that I did before drifting off I began to then spontaneously move into the practice in the middle of the night when I woke to feed Blair.  Again, sweet.

And then this happened:

At some point in my life yesterday or last night (oddly, I have no recollection of when it actually happened) my gratitude felt, well, true.  This feeling of sincerity made my whole being feel full of contentment and peace.  For whatever brief moment, I was in awe of this well of gratitude that was brimming over inside of me.

And then this next thing happened:

My mind perked up and exclaimed, "This is it!  This is the feeling that has eluded you/me over the years!  Quick!  Let's figure out how we got here and how we can hold on!"  I clenched the well.  And then it disappeared.

I can try to get it back through words, but they are nowhere nearly as expansive as the heart.  Alas, I will continue my practice of gratitude however simple or mechanical it feels.  I will also continue to open my heart and train my mind so that when I stumble on the well again I can bask there for just a bit longer.