Enjoying a rare weekend at the lake this summer and starting a new book – what better way to settle and relax? My sister bought me the book: Straight Up by Ruby Tui, one of the world’s best rugby players from New Zealand, for my birthday (6 months ago). Between school and work, reading for pleasure falls low on the priority list.
She writes about the concept of “greatitude”. While being grateful is a beautiful practice, she adds to it by doing great actions that show she is grateful. Others will see our gratitude for something in our actions. I do not need to tell you that I am grateful for something; you will see it.
Practicing the 5-4-3-2-1 Method, Ruby embraced gratitude for being home. Noticing five things you can hear, four things you can see, three things you can feel, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. Pay attention to your body, mind, and spirit as you practice this – without judgement or assumption.
I am curled up cozy on the makeshift deck outside our camper. There is stillness around me because I was able to wake up before my family, and the dog is snoozing at my feet. My coffee is warm, half full, while I read my book, and I choose to practice this method, inspired by Ruby’s words.
I lose myself in the sounds of the birds chirping first. They are the sounds I woke up to earlier and they softly mimic each other back and forth through the trees. A boat rumbles softly in the distance preparing for the morning catch; a cow moos across the lake. A child must have rolled over because the squeak of the camper interrupts the nature music. A bug buzzes past my ear.
Opening my eyes, I take in the familiar view. I see the white haze of smoke unfortunately coating the sky. The bright green of my son’s bathing suit hangs on the line. I watch as our old dog lets out a big sigh, and adjusts her head. The vibrant green grass that has been freshly cut.
I close my eyes again to tune into my felt sense. I feel the heat of the fleece blanket surrounding my toes. The pressure of my coffee mug resting on my belly, and the edge of my book digging into my thigh.
The scent of my cooling coffee reminds me that I should make another one to enjoy with my mother when she wakes up. I smell the dampness from the dawn in the air, cool against my cheeks.
I slowly allow myself to notice what I might taste in this moment and it’s a blend of coffee and my oatmeal breakfast still lingering in my mouth.
How can I carry this into the rest of my day? Notice slowly and with care and compassion. Take my time. Focus on one moment, one sense. Be “greatful”.
