Waxing Poetic on Appreciation

I've been thinking a lot about gratitude lately, so much so that a train of thoughts I had driving home yesterday infiltrated my psyche during my dreams and I knew I had to put some words to page on the subject.

Someone new has started working with us and I've become acutely aware of my words, my opinions and the bullshit that escapes this melon when I'm talking with her. More specifically, I've noticed that I'm bitingly critical of people, that the string of acerbic observations of strangers and celebrities seems to have no off button. Okay, so I mock people who will never hear my bitchy words. I'm the veritable Perez Hilton of my plastic surgeon's office. Big fucking deal right? Who am I really hurting? Well no one specifically, but who's benefiting from my ongoing Siskel and Ebert-worthy social criticism?

So cognizance is the first step towards transformation right? This got me thinking about how I want to make a conscious effort to acknowledge my blessings every day. My hope is that by actively acknowledging all that I have I will curtail the cynicism- the gratitude will outshine the sarcasm. I thought about how appreciation seems to be one of the most arduous of human experiences, if only because routine breeds entitlement.

It came to me in simplistic terms, a language that makes my brain happy. Two summers ago I bought a new car. It was the first time in my adult life that I went to the dealership all by myself to make the transaction. I didn't have my father beside me to bolster my confidence in negotiating a fair price- I had to go this alone, like a big girl. I researched beforehand and went in prepared for the verbal sparring that is buying a car from a sleazy salesperson. It wasn't nearly as painful as I expected and I got exactly what I wanted. After I had signed the mountain of paperwork I went outside to admire my new ride and make the sales guy take my picture. I stood proudly beside my shiny pseudo luxury car and smiled the biggest shit-eating grin of my life. I had done this all by myself and the nifty bells and whistles the Acura boasted made me so happy.

I loved, loved, loved my car and religiously had it serviced and washed for months after that summer evening. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, in fact, the car washings grew further apart. The oil changes became a burden, a time suck that kept me from things I really wanted to do. One night I even let my friend smoke a cigarette from the leather upholstered passenger seat. And then I accidentally scraped the side of the car pulling out of my garage and I guess you could say that the bloom had officially worn off. The sweet little vehicle I had loved so much in the beginning became nothing more than a mechanism to deliver me to my destinations. I mean, I was grateful to have transportation but I didn't value the possession as much as I had in the beginning.

Thinking about the way my appreciation for my car had declined over time got me to consider how often the same thing happens with the people in our lives that we love the most. Studies have shown that "romantic love" typically "wears off" around the two year mark. Scientists haven't concluded exactly why the love drug declines over time. I have my own theories though. Once boy meets girl and there's a spark, the falling in love part happens. During this period of falling in love there are a bunch of things boy and girl are doing unconsciously to facilitate attachment. They are discovering a lot about each other and with each discovery comes the excited realization that they are similar. Mostly we are drawn to people like ourselves and finding common interests and shared values helps to surge that admiration train. Plus we are spending a lot of time together engaging in these shared interests and more importantly a lot of time talking. Add to this a big pot of chemistry and sexual exploration and you have the makins for some pretty good times.

When we are newly in love we are more likely to shower our partner with affection and attention- some might say that at the beginning stages of a relationship, both partners are giving their very best selves to the other person.

So what happens though? Why is it that the surge of bliss and love and goodness must come to an end? If people feel so happy and fulfilled in the infancy of love wouldn't they be even more motivated to keep the love blooming?

This is where I think that gratitude and consciousness play the fundamental roles in extending the lifespan of love. Over time we grow complacent, lazy, tired. We stop thinking about what we can do to make our lover happy and we start asking, "What has that jerk done for me lately?" Making a special dinner becomes a burden instead of a pleasure, getting dressed up for a date is an encumbrance rather than an excitement and sex... well somehow the sweaty, huffing, puffing good time that used to be your bedroom antics starts sounding like something that will cut into your sleep. There are other wheels in motion too. His proclamations of your beauty have all but disappeared, the sharing about your life before each other or your opinions about politics or the news have slowed to a trickle and you start noticing all of the ways that maybe you're not so right for each other after all. You start spending less time together and more time pursuing the things that you love, because dammit if he's going to ignore you then you're sure as shit not sitting around with nothing to do.

Before you know it your beautiful blooming love tree has shriveled up and died.

In college I studied interpersonal relationships largely because I had no idea what I wanted to do when I grew up but I knew that having deep, meaningful connections with people would bring me happiness. I was fascinated by the research and the findings about human behavior and how we relate to each other on this crazy mixed up journey of life. I appreciated so much of the information scientists had discovered about how we interact and I vowed to apply it in a way to my life that would ensure I didn't lead the status quo existence. For me, mediocrity just wasn't enough. I refused to accept the inevitability that my partner would become a companion at best, a roommate at worst. And so this challenge to have the most connected relationships, the most fulfilling experience has stayed with me as I have traversed the path into adulthood. Almost every day I am considering what I can do to make this life sweeter and what I can do to give the sweetness to the people I love.

So what did I discover? Gratitude. When I get in that car, be cognizant of the soft leather on my buns, the warm summer breeze wafting through the sunroof, the speakers singing to me. More importantly this gratitude should extend deeply to the people in my life that I love. So that when my sister sends me a text message about how California will likely fall off the map in the next fifty years and that I should have an emergency plan for natural disasters, I heed her warning and make a plan instead of scoffing and rolling my eyes. It is out of love that she sends the suggestion and I should embrace the advice as such. Gratitude when I wake up each morning wrapped in the warm cocoon of love I have so richly been blessed with. Gratitude for a mother and father who listen and care and ask about what is going on in my world.

The older I get the more I am realizing that having appreciation for all that I have is one of the little secrets of happiness. The gratitude seems to attract more blessings and so the cycle grows. I truly believe that we are soley responsible for our happiness or our misery. Shit happens, you decide how to deal with it. So I am living gratitude and consciously deciding to love these gifts I've been given. We have so much if only we are able to see it.