Blessings In a Cup
As the blustery wind blew in this past weekend, signaling that it was FINALLY time to put on a cozy sweater and my favorite boots, I realized that the Thanksgiving holiday would arrive in less than a fortnight. Normally, I’d react with a frazzle of emotions, stressed about hosting duties, a messy house, undercooked turkeys, lumpy mashed potatoes, and burnt pies, but also grateful for the annual reprieve from work, school, and typical routines to spend quality time with my loved ones. Ultimately, I knew that on Thanksgiving, it was time to count our blessings.
On this occasion, as I waited for my morning cup of Joe to brew and considered the upcoming holiday, I found myself contemplating my favorite Peanuts’s Lucy mug and my eagerness for that first sip of warmth instead. What a blessing, I thought, absently at first but then with more consideration. I felt grateful for my morning ritual, which included curling up on the couch with a soft blanket and absorbing the house’s silence as I drank my coffee and mentally prepared for the day. Almost guiltily, I questioned, “How many million little blessings do I regularly overlook?
Like most people, I consider Thanksgiving a time to formally express gratitude for family and friends and for God’s blessings. But I also routinely say a silent prayer of thanks for my loved ones and their well-being. What I have neglected to do of late, however, is to take daily stock of the less apparent blessings that abound, even the simplest yet fundamental ones, like waking up to a new day. Even the things that might seem more trivial, like a cup of coffee, hold their own blessings. Not only does the velvety, liquid caffeine act like a defibrillator and heating pad but it also signifies a precious part of my day, my quiet morning.
Not so long ago, when I struggled to make sense of life’s purpose and meaning, I began a daily gratitude list to remind me of my blessings. I would write even the most seemingly mundane things in it, such as toast and jam. I’d always start with my family, but each day would vary, and different things or activities and different people would appear on it. Sometimes the list would be lengthy and, on other days, more curtailed but never once empty. Even more notably, I drew my kids into the fold and, at our evening meals, had them express pretty much anything (or anyone) for which they felt grateful. Sometimes that would be a cookie!
Unfortunately, I let both practices fall by the wayside as I became swept up in our evolving life and seemingly endless challenges. I should have realized that it is precisely in such times that recounting our blessings matters the most to keep us grounded. So, as I stared into the depths of my java-filled Lucy mug, I remembered the incredible value in practicing daily gratitude, for both the significant blessings and the lesser ones in our lives, as a lesson in mindfulness. Resolving then to resume my practice and revive our mealtime ritual, I immediately brightened thinking of celebrating Thanksgiving all year long with nothing but our gratitude.
Gratitude, perhaps more than anything else, instantly warms the hearts and acts like a balm for the soul. And blessings exist everywhere, even in a cup.
