I've been slacking with my gratitude practice lately. When I first started this ritual in November, I was excited to embark on the journey. It was a new challenge that really lit a fire in me. As life has gone on, some days, it feels like I've lost my groove. Stopping to think about what I'm grateful for isn't always second nature. My ritual has been interrupted by all the other things I have going on. And while that isn't a good excuse, it is absolutely the reality of today. Recently, my mind has been foggy. It's been hard to write, read, and concentrate. The other day I penciled myself in. The task: sit down and just breathe. I ended up relaxing and dozing off writing in my gratitude journal for the first time in days. I share this all to say that you're not alone if you're struggling with your practice lately.
Something that brings me back to the grateful living is baking. It's been my go-to "feel good" thing for years now. On the menu as of late is peach cobbler, made from scratch, with an extra hint of brown sugar right before popping the buttery sweet desert into the oven. My house ends up smelling like cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, and caramelized sugar—bringing me back to a moment of thanks for being alive to smell such a heavenly scent. I blame Deesha, the author of The Secret Lives of Church Ladies, for this obsession. I am also super grateful for her, that book, and the chapter called Peach Cobbler. Whew! SO good. I digress.
Some reflections from my kitchen are as follows:
I feel good when I'm baking. Being in the kitchen has been an act of self-nurturing since my early 20s. Back then, I didn't look at it like that, but now I do. Making something soul-warming and good to feed my family and me is indeed a nourishing and nurturing act—even if it's a nostalgic baked good.
I'm grateful to be able to exercise my brain and senses in new ways. It doesn't matter what's going on around me, and maybe that's why I enjoy baking. I'm not being called to be quiet, like when I write. I'm not being called to focus so intently like I am when reading. I'm able to just be in flow with the ingredients around me. And I've been relishing that. Babies can be at my feet, my husband can be chatting to me across the room, music can be blasting, and it all feels good like it's supposed to.
I've been looking at self-care differently since the pandemic. The past year and a half have been a wake-up call. Reflecting on that alone brings me back to gratitude. I've been approaching my self-care and gratitude practice from a lens that's not so rigid or rooted in routine. It's hard to let loose sometimes and go with the flow, but that's been a significant facilitator in approaching this shift in showing up for myself. I am on a journey toward an ease-filled life—even during chaos. I try to do what I can without conceding to my harsh inner critic when it shouts: You're not doing enough. Practice creates ritual when things flow and aren't forced into position. Gratefulness emerges when we get present enough to sit, breathe, and pay attention.
Our call to action for the week: Create a list of what our gratitude looks, feels, sounds, smells, and tastes like.
Mine is below.
Gratitude looks like chaotic kitchen countertops dusted with flour.
Gratitude feels like scooping brown sugar.
Gratitude sounds like the scraping batter from the side of a bowl.
Gratitude smells like cinnamon and vanilla beans.
Gratitude tastes like warm peach cobbler and homemade whipped cream.
Some other things to explore:
This video.
Gratitude Meditation on Clarity (WK 10)
This practice.
This book.
These journal questions:
I feel good when...
I am grateful that I can...
As always, feel free to share with me below or at gratitude[at]alexelle[dot]com. Reading your community gratitude reflections is the highlight of this newsletter.
