Have you noticed? It’s hard to feel thankful when you’re angry or resentful, and these days a lot of us are feeling angry.
Steven Webster, a professor of political science, published a piece online a year ago in which he concluded, “American voters are angry.” An NPR poll done four years ago revealed that 84% of the people surveyed said that Americans are angrier today than they were a generation ago. In an online article published two years ago, Kerry Howells asked the question, “How can I be grateful when I feel so resentful?”
Her short answer is a simple, “You can’t.”
“They are mirror opposites of each other,” she explains, “completely opposite states or ways of being.”
So how can we regain some gratitude?
“Firstly,” she concludes, “we need to address any resentment we may have.”
The lens through which I look at reality has been influenced a lot by Alcoholics Anonymous and the Twelve Steps. When alcoholics are confronted with their addictive behavior, they tend to say things like, “OK, maybe I drink too much, but it’s the fault of my wife or boss or parents or the other political party or the Bears having a losing season. Again!”
John Keller was the chief clinical officer of Parkside Medical Services in Park Ridge when he wrote, “From infancy on, we have deep within us three delusional assumptions:
1. I am in control, or ought to be in control, of all that has to do with my life
2. I am at the center of the universe
3. Everything and everyone ought to be spinning around me so I can have what I want and life will be the way I want it to be
When I was an infant, all three of the above were my reality. When I was hungry, all I had to do was whimper a little and my mother sprang into action. I pooped whenever and wherever I wanted.
Have you ever witnessed a 2-year-old’s temper tantrum? What do you mean you want me to do what? You want me to hold my poop until I get to the place where it is appropriate to let it go?!
Welcome to the world of social expectations, limits on my behavior, the experience of having a conscience, the necessity of deferring gratification.
We refer to people who don’t learn those things as immature or even infantile.
And so I naturally think of Donald Trump. He not only “poops” whenever and wherever he wants, he even poops on other people. He is not restrained by conscience or social norms. The title of chapter three in Keller’s book is The Omnipotent, Egocentric Self.
So back to anger, resentment and gratitude.
When I get up in the morning I often feel grouchy. Often I cannot put my finger on why. It’s just that reality is not the way I want it to be. And I resent that. Six days after Thanksgiving, you see where I’m going.
Some people have legitimate reasons for not feeling thankful. Imagine living in Gaza right now.
Howells encourages us to deal with our resentments when we find ourselves having a hard time feeling grateful. “The only way out of pain is through it,” the divorce recovery workshop leaders kept telling us.
But here’s a corollary: Those who feel thankful have a hard time feeling angry or resentful. If you knew Officer Nick Kozak before he died two years ago, you knew a guy who seemed to be grateful to simply be alive. He had a job that put him in close contact with the dark side of life, but whenever he would see me, a smile would spread across his face and he’d go out of his way to come over and shake my hand.
People who are thankful have a hard time being angry or resentful.
Another man I miss is Larry Biondi. Larry was born with cerebral palsy and couldn’t walk, so he went through life in his power wheelchair. Nevertheless, he seemed to be thankful, thankful just to be alive. He would even laugh at my dumb jokes.
At the same time, I saw Larry express anger. His job at the Progress Center was Disability Rights Advocate. He’d go down to Springfield and fearlessly confront legislators. He could get angry, but he wasn’t an angry person. You see what I mean?
Part of the trick is focus, when you think about it. Driving to the Loop from Forest Park, there is plenty of trash along the side of the Eisenhower Expressway, but there is also a majestic skyline.
When I wake up feeling grouchy and if I have my spiritual wits about me, I’ll hug my wife, put myself in a place where I can hear God tell me for the 10 thousandth time that I am loved. The liturgical word for Communion, by the way, is “eucharist” or “thanksgiving.”
Text my grandchildren, and put “chat with a friend” on my to-do list.
Tom Holmes is a Forest Park resident who writes a column for the Forest Park Review, a Growing Community Media publication.
