November Founders Corner: The Small Sweetness of Gratitude

Posted: November 4, 2025

This morning, as I was driving to the gym, the sky was still dark — that deep pre‑dawn quiet before the world wakes. Out of nowhere, a large bird flew across the road, its white belly catching the light. It glided in front of my car for several seconds, weaving back and forth just above me. In that instant, I felt certain it was a quiet guide in the dark — a small, wordless reminder to pay attention. And in that moment, gratitude arrived.

As the days grow shorter and the light softens, I find myself turning inward, noticing the quieter details that so often get missed in the rush of things. If you’re anything like me, you might recognize the darkening days as a kind of preparation for hibernation — a time to draw inward and huddle down. This inner retreat is something I’ve come to cherish: a time to turn the volume down and listen more closely to myself.

Gratitude, I’ve realized, doesn’t always arrive in grand gestures. It often appears like that bird — unexpected, fleeting, yet luminous when we slow down enough to see it. Gratitude doesn’t just change how we feel; it changes how we are.

In fact, when we focus on what we’re thankful for, even briefly, the brain takes notice. The prefrontal cortex — the part that helps us connect, reflect, and regulate emotion — begins to light up. The amygdala, the brain’s alarm system, quiets. Cortisol levels drop. The vagus nerve signals the heart to slow. Our whole system shifts from fight‑or‑flight into rest‑and‑receive.

And here’s the beautiful thing: gratitude makes it hard to stay grumpy. It’s nearly impossible to hold irritation and appreciation at the same time. Even the smallest sweetness — a warm mug of tea, a laugh, a flicker of sunrise — interrupts the brain’s habit of scanning for what’s wrong. Gratitude widens our focus, softens our tone, and reminds us that goodness is still here.

A Gentle Practice: Receiving Gratitude

If you have a few minutes, find a comfortable seat or simply stand where you are.
Take a slow breath in through your nose, letting your chest and belly expand.
Allow your hand to rest over your heart.
Exhale softly, letting your shoulders drop and your jaw release.
Take another slow inhale — then a longer exhale.
Let your breath begin to steady itself, like feathers floating in the air.

Now, imagine a soft light resting just above your heart — warm and steady, like morning sun spilling through a window.
With each inhale, feel the light brighten.
With each exhale, let it spread gently through your body, bringing warmth and ease.

Think of one small thing you’re grateful for: a sound, a face, a memory — something ordinary but alive with goodness.
Pause. Allow the gratitude to fill in around you, rich with detail and warmth.
Let this awareness rest near your heart, beside the light.

Notice what happens in your body as you linger there — a quiet softening, a deeper breath, a loosening behind the eyes.
There’s no need to chase the feeling. Gratitude is not an effort; it’s an allowing.
You are simply creating space for what is already present.

Repeat this breath and softening, again and again — letting gratitude show itself in whatever way it wants to.

This is the practice of gratitude.

What Is a Practice?

A practice isn’t about perfection; it’s about returning.
We practice gratitude not to “get it right,” but to keep opening the door — again and again — to awareness and connection.
Some days it comes easily. Other days it feels far away. Both are part of the practice.

Consistency matters more than intensity. When we revisit gratitude regularly — through a breath, a few words, or a moment of noticing — we train the nervous system to find its way back to balance more easily. Over time, it becomes a well‑worn path in the brain, a familiar route home to calm.

How to Begin a Gratitude Practice

Start small. Each morning or evening, place your hands on your chest and close your eyes. Name three things you’re grateful for — spoken aloud or simply held in thought.
Anchor it in the body. Pair your gratitude with a breath, a stretch, or a moment of stillness. Let your awareness drop from thought into sensation.
Notice the shift. Even subtle changes — a sigh, a warmth, a brief smile — mean your nervous system is responding.
Return often. Gratitude is less about grand realizations and more about repetition. The more we practice, the more easily it finds us.

I’ll leave you with this: no matter where you are or what this season brings, I see you. I feel you.
For taking the time to read this — to let me step into your day — I am grateful.

Together, gliding through time and tethered to moments of pause, I am thankful for the small and big ways you open your heart to the world around you.
Your kind presence is my gift today.

References

Emmons, R. A., & McCullough, M. E. (2004). The psychology of gratitude. Oxford University Press.

Karns, C. M., Moore, W. E., & Mayr, U. (2017). The cultivation of pure altruism via gratitude: A functional MRI study of change with gratitude practice. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 11, 599. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnhum.2017.00599

Roberts, R. C., & Telech, M. (Eds.). (2021). The moral psychology of gratitude. Bloomsbury Academic.

Smith, J. A., Newman, K., & Marsh, J. (2020). The gratitude project: How the science of thankfulness can rewire our brains for resilience, optimism, and the greater good. New Harbinger Publications.