I enjoy spending time on my back porch. It’s typically a calm environment in which to relax and reflect. Sunday mornings are particularly special as it’s usually quite quiet in my neighborhood and I often spend that time enjoying how nature shows up through the many doorways of my senses.
On a recent Sunday morning, settling in for a bit of solace, the quiet was suddenly disrupted with the sounds of hammering. I felt an internal resistance arise with this interruption, becoming more tense and tight and frustrated. It began to take center stage, becoming all I could hear as I made judgments about it. “What kind of person would hammer on a Sunday morning?!!” “They’re so thoughtless!” “ Sunday mornings should be quiet and relaxing.” “They’re ruining my day!” I felt myself getting more irritated and more constricted.
But then I realized where the hammering was coming from. It was on the street just behind me. Months ago a severe storm blew through my community, knocking down many old and large trees. A massive oak fell through the middle of a house just a block away. An older couple was living there, one with mobility issues and requiring the use of a wheelchair. Miraculously they escaped unharmed, but their house was all but destroyed. For 6 months the house had been covered with a large tarp and the couple had been displaced to a temporary location.
I’ve considered over these months how difficult it must be for them and can’t even imagine it. My home is my refuge and to see it nearly destroyed and be forced to leave it would be excruciating.
I realized the hammering was coming from that house and I understood that more earnest work had begun in getting it habitable again. And as I realized that, my heart opened and I relaxed. I felt grateful for each hammer strike as every nail driven meant that couple was one step closer to getting back into their home. And I no longer felt frustrated or bothered by it. I began to hear nature again. Leaves rustling in the light breeze. Birdsong. I was able to appreciate the deep blue of the sky and the play of sunlight filtering through the trees. And to enjoy the pleasant temperature and comfort of swaying on my porch swing.
As I reflected on this later that day, it was interesting to consider how a shift within me was all that had happened. Everything was still going as it was. Nature was still “naturing,” hammering was still “hammering.” It exemplified the saying, “we see things not as they are but as we are.”
I think practicing gratitude is a subtle alchemy. Ways to build gratitude initially might seem like a bit of a stretch or like not much is happening. But still the same, one Sunday morning, incessant hammering interrupts a quiet space and there it is. Gratitude for having a home. Gratitude that it’s a refuge for me. Gratitude that the large oak shading my porch did not crush my house months ago. Gratitude that these neighbors I don’t know found someone to help them and that they will be able to come home again. Gratitude is truly a transformative practice. And it’s not something we either have or don’t, but something we can cultivate with mindful intention.
I’m offering a workshop/mini-retreat on the Saturday before Thanksgiving to mindfully work with orienting towards true thanksgiving. Such compelling research exists on how gratitude practice supports health and well-being, both individually and socially. Click here for more information. Happy Thanksgiving!