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When I was in school I learned that the Pilgrims who had come to America to escape persecution in their native countries were faced with a dire situation in which they might not have survived if the Native Americans hadn’t come to their aid and given them food. The Pilgrims were very thankful for this gift of generosity from the Native Americans and hence we celebrate the holiday of Thanksgiving. [And thus began the clash of the white man’s culture with a tribal culture. The white man’s culture was one of money. The American culture was for the most part one of spiritual connection to the land. The two could not survive, a battle began for dominance and the white man’s culture won the war.]

(I apologize for adding a negative tone to this blog, that I originally began writing because I want to write about gratitude, gratefulness and thanksgiving. Naturally at this time of year, our thoughts turn to this subject. My recent visit to Lava Beds National Monument and learning of the treatment the Modoc Indians received from the white settlers really affected me.)

I quit smoking while part of a nicotine cessation support group. One of the tenets of that group is to feel gratitude for what we have. Many members spoke of gratitude when sharing in the meetings. In the beginning I had a hard time with gratitude. I didn’t understand what it felt like to have gratitude every day. I had been depressed all my life, was self-medicating with cigarettes, and when I quit became even more depressed. I eventually began taking an anti-depressant and things lightened up for me. But though I began managing my depression, I still could not feel “gratitude.” I was happy that I was alive, I was very happy that I was no longer in the dark depression in which I had been buried [I remember waking up one morning and realizing I was happy to be alive—for the first time]. I loved nature and being in the woods, I was happy I had friends and people who loved me. But was I grateful? I wasn’t sure I really understood what that meant.

There's a difference between pride and arrogance.

It has taken me many years to finally understand that I am grateful for every day. When I wake up in the morning, I do not say to myself “I am grateful for this day,” or “I am grateful to be alive,” but I am. I am grateful for the wonderful people in my life who actually love me. I am grateful for my living situation, even though at the moment it is a bit stressful. I am grateful that I have the capabilities to be a leader in my community, to step up and be of service to others. I believe this gratitude has come from a new sense of humility, as well as a growing sense of pride in my own achievements.

I have always had an issue with “pride,” mistaking it for arrogance. I had a strong distaste for arrogance and found that I lumped pride in with it, which of course, then didn’t allow me to feel pride about my accomplishments, because then I would be too arrogant. It took me many years to understand that pride and arrogance are two very different things.

I now believe that pride, gratitude and humility are “kissin’ cousins.” I think that they are all parts of the same whole, that they piggy back on each other and that it is difficult to have one without the other two.

My wish for you this season of gratitude is that you, too, can feel a sense of pride in all the things you have accomplished, that you feel with awe and humility what it is to be alive in this world, and that you know gratitude for all these things.

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