Gratitude List #2

"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
—Ernest Hemingway

When I got sober, they constantly pushed gratitude lists. I can still hear the old, weathered faces telling me to have “an attitude of gratitude,” and me thinking, Easy for you to say!

Cause they were people who’d been sober for decades—people with spouses, houses, cars less than five years old, and probably health insurance. Meanwhile, I scribbled down whatever scraps of gratitude I could find. In those first few months, gratitude was simple: a warm coat from my friend’s neighbor who was giving things away, or a filling lunch because someone from the program took me out after a meeting.

I discovered that gratitude comes more naturally when you have nothing, not when you have everything. It’s harder to feel once your life settles and survival is no longer day-to-day. A free lunch hits differently when you genuinely don’t know how you’re going to eat that day. A free lunch today is a nice perk, but I would have been fine to pay.

Even now that I am sober for years—now that I have a spouse and a house and all those things I once envied—I wonder if what I’m writing is a true gratitude list or simply a list of things that I like. But then again, isn’t appreciation just another form of gratitude? Maybe there’s something meaningful in being grateful for things that aren’t about life or death.

How lovely, really, to be grateful for Christmas decorations and painted toenails instead of not starving today. It is a genuine gratitude list—but the shift is noticeable. Back then, I felt lucky simply to be alive, to pay my rent, to eat, to wake up another day. The things I was once profoundly grateful for are now givens, and that, too, is something to be grateful for.

• Nail stickers.
• Watching Christmas movies with my husband in the dark.
• How much my husband loves A Christmas Carol—and how we watch every version since 1930.
• Setting up my 2026 planner.
• Neighbors waving.
• Baggy, comfy sweatpants.
• Reviewing my month and realizing November was swell.
• My husband making dinner.
• Picking out a crystal each morning to carry.
• Sleeping naked.
• Green tea.
• Quiet moments to myself.
• Cats playing with something that's not a cat toy.
• Christmas decorations.
• Silly dance sessions.
• The tooth my husband broke six months ago is finally pulled! I can’t wait for a steak.
• That pine tree in the neighborhood that’s at least 100 feet tall, decorated with multicolored lights every year.
• Pancakes for dinner.
• Making gratitude lists.
• Kissing cat foreheads and ears.
• Being able to donate to charities.
• The smell of my face cream.
• My house slippers.
• Finishing a journal and starting a new one.
• Early to bed. Early to wake. Restful sleep in between.
• Sharing something personal with someone and being met with kindness.