"Is the Glass Half-Full or Half Empty?"
A Sermon Preached by Alice Anacheka-Nasemann
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton, MA
November 28, 2001
Reading: from Attitudes of Gratitude, by M.J. Ryan
One of the incredible truths about gratitude is that it is impossible to feel both the positive emotion of thankfulness and a negative emotion such as anger or fear at the same time. Gratitude births only positive feelings--love, compassion, joy, and hope. As we focus on what we are thankful for, fear, anger, and bitterness simply melt away, seemingly without effort.
How can this be? The answer is that gratitude helps us track success, to notice what is right in our lives, and the brain naturally works to track success. If you have ever watched a baby learn something, you'll know what I mean. Learning to walk, for example, she stands and puts out one foot. Boom! Down she goes because her balance wasn't right. Instead of castigating herself for blowing it, getting angry, or blaming the floor or her shoe, she just registers that it didn't work because her foot was too far out and tries again. She just keeps trying and trying, discarding what doesn't work without obsessing on it, and incorporating what's right until she can walk. Fall, fall, fall, walk, fall, fall, walk, walk, walk!
As we get older, however, we get schooled in our mistakes, and learn to focus on what's not right, what is lacking, missing, inadequate, and painful. That's why gratitude is so powerful. It helps us to return to our natural state of joyfulness where we notice what's right instead of what's wrong. Gratitude reminds us to be like plants, which turn toward, not away, from the light.
Sermon: "Is the Glass Half Empty or Half Full?"
I have in my hand a glass that is half empty. I also have in my hand a glass that is half full. Both of the statements I just made are factually accurate. This glass is both half empty and half full. The difference is in how I feel and act based on my perception.
For example, if I see this glass as half empty, I might start to worry a bit. What if I run out of water half-way through my sermon? Will my voice get raspy? If I'm focussed on the lack of water, if I'm feeling deprived, I'm liable to start hoarding this water. Every sip would be grudgingly taken--and I probably would not be able to fully enjoy the thirst-quenching goodness of the water when I did drink it.
On the other hand, if I perceive the glass to be half full, I am more likely to feel like I have plenty. Confident that there is more water in the kitchen, I would drink this water as necessary. Moreover, if I were to notice that someone else seemed to have less water than me, I would not hesitate to share of my bounty. My sense of fullness would lead naturally to generosity. Is anyone thirsty? (It's only food coloring.)
I've just given you one example of how our perceptions of life translate into our actions and lifestyles. In her book, Attitudes of Gratitude, M. J. Ryan presents a number of benefits of having an optimistic, grateful orientation towards life. In addition to simply making us more pleasant to be around, she credits gratitude with increasing happiness, promoting health, and eradicating worry.
Let's take another example. About a year ago, a Unitarian Universalist woman I know fell on a step when leaving a store. Her nose was broken, her hands and face were scratched up. When I saw her in church the following Sunday she had dramatic black and blue marks. I asked her what had happened.
Her face lit up in a smile as she told me how she had gotten her injuries. She was absolutely delighted. Not because she had fallen, of course, but because the experience had reaffirmed her faith in humanity. All of her adult children were unavailable to help her -- she had to rely on the kindness of strangers. Any number of individuals stepped forward to offer their assistance.
Now, I don't know about you, but if I were to fall and bust my nose, no matter how many lovely people rushed to my assistance, I'm not sure I would necessarily remember the experience fondly. This woman was a model for me of truly living with an attitude of gratitude. It didn't keep her from breaking her nose, it didn't change the amount of water in her glass, but it did mean that even in the midst of a personal crisis, she managed to keep a positive, joyful outlook.
A Joni Mitchell song asks the question, "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got till it's gone?" This is what Ryan refers to as "retroactive gratitude." You know--like when you're feeling sick and suddenly you realize how absolutely wonderful it is to be healthy? Now, we don't usually wake up and say, "Wow--I feel great--I'm not sneezing, my feet aren't sore, and my head doesn't ache." Of course, if we don't feel so well, we're very aware of every complaint. Retroactive gratitude. But should we have to get sick in order to be thankful for what we usually live with day in and day out?
Dawna Markova once said, "Gratitude is like a flashlight. If you go out in your yard at night and turn on a flashlight, you suddenly can see what's there. It was always there, but you couldn't see it in the dark."
What will you see when you turn on your flashlight?
A few years ago, I had the pleasure of participating in the ordination of my colleague, Jeffrey Matthews Lamb. During the sermon, the Rev. Maureen Killoran kept repeating the question--"If you had 24 hours left to live, what would you do?" She pointed out that nobody answering this question ever talks about washing the dishes, going on a diet, or organizing the files. Her question provides another way of shining a flashlight on our lives. What is ultimately of highest value to you? Who are the people you would spend your last 24 hours with? Have you thanked them recently for being a part of your life? Who will you see when you turn on your flashlight?
The wonderful thing about gratitude is that it is so awesomely simple. As simple as turning on the switch of a flashlight. Approaching life with gratefulness, or "great fullness" as Brother David Steindl-Rast calls it, can bring us great peace and joy. But, as simple as this truth is, this is not to say that gratitude is always easy. Our general attitudes are learned behaviors that have become habitual. And habits can be terribly difficult to change.
How do you habitually respond to the world? Do you tend to think of yourself as inherently unlucky? Is your cup half empty more frequently than not? Or are you someone who feels extraordinarily blessed?
Chances are, the answer to that question is not based on whether or not you have dealt with bad circumstances. It is, rather, a reflection of which parts of your life you have chosen to focus on.
Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh realized the importance of focus when he was living in Vietnam. Family members and friends were killed by the French, American, and Vietnamese militaries. An orphanage he founded was bombed. Throughout it all, he asked himself every morning what he could count on that day. As Ryan writes,
Sometimes it was only the blue sky and the brown earth, and the fact that he was still breathing in and out. But in counting his blessings, so to speak, he reconnected to the miracle that he was, at least for the present moment, still alive in this beautiful world. "Suffering is not enough. Life is both dreadful and wonderful," he reminds us. "How can I smile when I am filled with so much sorrow? It is natural--you need to smile to your sorrow because you are more than your sorrow.
It is easy to look at those optimistic folks--you know, the ones who always seem happy and content, even with a broken nose--and suppose that they are somehow more lucky than we are. But the experiences of such a remarkable individual as Thich Nhat Hanh are testament to the fact that even in the midst of terrible hardship, we can still find things to be grateful for. As Lewis Smedes points out, "The world is too bent for unshadowed joy, so we must catch and kiss our joy as it flies by, even in the midst of sorrow or suffering."
This past week, we all celebrated Thanksgiving. It was, for many of us, filled with mixed emotions, as we struggle to deal with national and world upheaval. It is precisely in such times as these that gratitude becomes even more important in our lives. Even as we grieve, even as we feel anger or fear, remembering the blessings in our lives can help us to face and respond to crisis with strength and love. It can help us to carry on without succumbing to despair.
Now I don't want trivialize the painful experiences we all go through -- in our personal lives, or as citizens of this country. I have always hated the saying, "that which does not kill me makes me strong." Because I truly believe that some things happen to people which leave them alive but terribly wounded. And those hurts often spread out from the wounded person infecting their families and ultimately the larger community-- the impact of such a wound sometimes lasts for generations. Yet, it is precisely in those wounding moments when we have a choice. This is the truth which Victor Frankl speaks of when he writes about his experience in Nazi Germany,
We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms--to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances. ...
We can choose our attitudes. So much in life is beyond our control, but we can choose our attitudes. Now, here's the paradox of this sermon. As much as I would like to encourage you all to join me in trying to foster an attitude of gratitude, as M.J. Ryan writes, "Nothing destroys a sense of gratitude faster than being told we `should' feel grateful." Knowing that children are starving in other countries doesn't really make us any more thankful for our brussels sprouts. And when we are in the midst of self-pity it doesn't often help to have someone else try to point out the silver lining on our storm cloud.
And so I know that if you truly believe that your glass is half empty, no matter how hard I try, I won't be able to convince you to see it as half full. What I do hope to convince you of, however, is that the results of living with an attitude of gratitude are well worth the effort!
How can we foster those attitudes of gratitude? First of all, by making the conscious decision to practice looking at what it right in our lives. This shouldn't just be a seasonal event. Now that Thanksgiving has passed, try to carry the spirit of the holiday with you on every day of the year. Try saying thank-you to as many people as you can--not only will you increase your awareness of the gifts they give you, but it will also increase their joy as well. Say grace before a meal, or count your blessings every night before going to bed. Whatever it is that you decide to do, make it a daily routine. Turn your flashlight on regularly.
Now, we all have days when we find ourselves staring miserably into the bottom of an empty glass. On those days when you are finding it terribly difficult to find things you are grateful for, perhaps the wisdom of this anonymous quote might help: "If you haven't got all the things you want, be grateful for the things you don't have that you don't want." At least the neighbors` son isn`t practicing his drum lessons again. Thank heavens the cats didn`t strategically place hairballs on the bathmat during my shower!
Hopefully, however, this sort of reasoning won't often be necessary and you will be able to find plenty of small, ordinary, everyday miracles to be grateful for.
I remember taking my 20 month old nephew to the zoo a few years ago. There I was, a doting aunt trying to introduce my first nephew to such creatures as lions and orangutans, when he paused in front of an aquarium. Enthralled, he pointed to a snail, slowly wending its way down the glass. Later, when my sister asked him about his day, out of all of the exotic animals we had seen, that snail is what he remembered. The natural wonder of a child is a reminder to those of us who have grown more jaded, that indeed, even the snail is worthy of our awe and gratitude.
What is hidden in the dark shadows of your life that you will see when you turn on your flashlight?
Meister Eckhart wrote, "If the only prayer you ever say in your whole life is `thank you,' that would suffice." We Unitarian Universalists are not always a praying people. And yet, simply saying thank-you is one way to remind ourselves everyday that we are happier when we view our glasses as half-full. What is it that you are thankful for? Turn on your flashlight. What is there around you that you have not been seeing? What are those simple blessings and miracles of the common way which you have come to take for granted?
So, is this glass half full or half empty? The truth is, life is always half empty and half full. Which reality would you rather focus on? On the disappointments, losses and wrongs committed? Or on the bounties of love and beauty that we encounter every day. Where will you shine your flashlight?
First Parish Unitarian Universalist