When Gratitude Feels Impossible
- fayenen
- Nov 19
- 6 min read
A Somatic Path Through Resistance and Softening

Gratitude...
Some days it feels effortless - a state of consciousness, a natural river I can slip into with ease. Like the other morning, when out of nowhere - or at least it felt like nowhere - I stood at my window suddenly aware of how grateful I was simply to be alive. For the breath moving in my lungs. For the colours of the day rising outside my window. For the sense that, somehow, I was in right relation with Life herself.
And then there are the other days.
Days when gratitude feels not only elusive, but irritating - even enraging. When the very idea of being grateful feels like a violation.
Why should I be grateful for the hardship I’m feeling? Why should I feel grateful when life feels like a struggle and pain lives around every corner? Why should I be grateful for the experiences that left me hurt, or abandoned, or afraid? Why should I trust gratitude when anything I love can be taken away in a moment? Why should I feel grateful toward those who have caused me suffering?
As these questions gather inside me, what I notice is the word should. As if there’s a preacher in my head pointing a finger, telling me how I must feel - as though gratitude is some moral prescription I’m expected to swallow, whether I want to or not.
Ahhh.
I pause. I breathe.
And I give myself the listening I know I need.
I hear the parts in me that have known pain and despair. The wounds shaped by abandonment, violations, ruptures. The places in me that fear gratitude means condoning what was never okay. The anger that equates gratitude with spiritual bypassing. The parts that still brace for impact.
I place one hand on my heart and the other on my belly. Breathing in. Breathing out. Staying with the rise and fall of my chest. Staying with the hitch that appears as tension releases. Staying with the weight of my hands on my body.
My mind drifts to a teaching from Thich Nhat Hanh:
“Breathing in, I feel grateful for this breath. Breathing out, I smile. Dwelling in the present moment, I know this is a wonderful moment.”
So, with everything churning inside me, I breathe and repeat his words.
Breathing in, I feel grateful for this breath. Breathing out, I smile.
In for four. Out for six. Again. And again.
Then I check: Am I safe in this moment? Is it okay to simply breathe for another moment or two?
The answer comes gently: yes. Yes, I am safe in this moment. Yes, it is okay to breathe.
For the air entering my lungs without effort - I am grateful. For the surface supporting my weight - I am grateful. For the small yes blossoming in my chest - I am grateful.
And then something inside me softens even more.
I feel the tightness in my chest - that old protector - and I whisper to it:
Thank you for all you have held to keep me safe. I’m sorry for the suffering you have endured. I’m sorry for the pain and hurt and despair you’ve carried. I’m sorry for the times you felt you had to hold everything alone. I’m sorry for the fear that shaped you. I’m sorry for the care that wasn’t given. I’m sorry for the violations you survived. I’m sorry for every message that told you you were anything less than precious, whole, and worthy of love.
Please forgive me for the times I didn’t listen. Please forgive me for when I believed we were anything but whole. Please forgive me for all the ways I ignored you. I’m sorry. I’m here. I love you. Thank you.
Ahhh - softening.
My breath deepens. The vigilance relaxes. My nervous system eases.
Nothing in my external life has changed - and yet… something in me has unclenched.
I remember:
I am all of this, and I am more. I am she who breathes and softens. I am she who can pray and surrender. I am she who embraces life and learns the dance - knowing when to softenand when to step forward in strength.
In this softening, I feel grateful.
My shoulders drop. My heart opens. Tears fall softly. A sense of being held emerges - by something larger than me, flowing through and around and within me.
Right now, all is well.
I breathe.
A Pivot Into Wisdom: What Gratitude Teaches Across Traditions
Let’s step - gently - into the realm of collective wisdom.
Across sacred traditions and modern science, gratitude is not a performance. It’s not forced positivity. It’s a state of being, a doorway into connection.
Bhakti Yoga
Bhakti reminds us that the grateful soul lives in reciprocity with the Divine. Gratitude is both an offering and a receiving - a recognition that we are loved, held, cherished by Something Vast.
Islam
In Islam, Alhamdulillah is not a platitude; it is a surrender. Allah as Ash-Shakūr - The Appreciative, The Grateful - is the One who multiplies even the smallest act of thanksand pours mercy upon the grateful heart.
Gratitude becomes a way of resting in the certainty that what comes is ultimately for our highest good.
Christianity
In Christian thought, figures like Desmond Tutu remind us that gratitude is deeply rooted in grace: “Certainly it is from experiencing this generosity of God and the generosity of those in our life that we learn gratitude.”
This about-turn from “earning” to “receiving” mirrors a somatic shifting of posture - not striving, but softening into a gift.
Richard Rohr puts it beautifully in his contemplative teaching: “Prayer is sitting in the silence until it silences us, choosing gratitude until we are grateful, and praising God until we ourselves are an act of praise.”
For Rohr, gratitude is not just an emotion - it is a spiritual practice, a prayer, a way of being. When we live with an “attitude of gratitude,” we become conduits for the love and life that flows through us.
Nature-Based Traditions
Nature teaches gratitude through right-relationship: the fruit that nourishes, the sunlight that feeds, the decay that becomes compost, the snow that purifies, the darkness that restores so new things can be born.
Gratitude is woven into the cyclical intelligence of the Earth.
Modern Science
Science, too, affirms what the mystics knew.
HeartMath shows that gratitude shifts heart rhythms into coherence, creating physiological harmony in our personal field and rippling out around us.
Rollin McCraty of HeartMath says: ‘Gratitude is a powerful driver of physiological coherence - it brings the heart into harmony and radiates that harmony outward.’
Somatic neuroscience shows that genuine gratitude increases safety signals in the nervous system and widens our window of tolerance.
Deb Dana - a somatic therapist and Polyvagal practitioner - affirms that “When the nervous system feels safe, gratitude becomes possible - not as a concept, but as a lived experience in the body.”
Psychological research finds that an attitude of gratitude supports emotional resilience, cardiovascular health, connection, sleep, and wellbeing.
Dr. Robert Emmons - a leading gratitude researcher - says, “Gratitude amplifies the good and allows us to appreciate the gifts of the present moment, even in difficult times.”
Gratitude is not a performance, but as an embodied state.
Returning Home to the Body
Now, take a moment… breathe.
Let all of this - ancient, scientific, devotional - settle into your body.
Feel your chest rise and fall. Feel the weight of your seat. Feel the softness gathering around your heart.
Consider, gently, the possibility that gratitude is always present - not as something to force, but as something to lean toward.
That resistance doesn’t block gratitude; it invites it. It’s not the door closing - it’s the doorframe, showing you where to place your hand.
Gratitude isn’t a bitter pill or the denial of pain. It’s an invitation to soften into the blessing of this moment, just as it is.
It’s a devotional posture toward Life - a willingness to dance with what comes, to bow with what leaves, to trust that we are not alone.
Three Practices for Softening Into Gratitude
1. Somatic Heart-Coherence
Place one hand on your heart, one on your belly.
Breathe slowly into the heart-space -
in for four… out for six.
Let your breath and body find a rhythm
that feels like “yes.”
2. Breathing With Resistance + Honouring Protectors
When a tightness or emotion rises, pause.
Turn toward it gently.
Ask it, “What are you protecting me from?”
Offer it appreciation for its service.
Let it soften in its own time.
3. Ho‘oponopono Heart-Breath
A simple, tender doorway back to connection.
Breathe into your heart as you repeat:
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.
Notice what shifts - a softening, a release, a warmth, or even nothing at all.
All of it is welcome.
Repeat once or twice, letting your body lead the pace.
Not as a ritual of bypassing - but as a way of acknowledging the truth within.
A Blessing for You
May your breath soften you into the refuge of this moment. May your heart remember it is worthy of tenderness, safety, and grace. May gratitude find you gently - not as expectation, but as a warm hand reaching for yours. May you feel held by the Great Mystery that moves through all things. And may you know, deep in your bones, that presence itself is enough.
Thank you - truly - for being here. Thank you for reading. Thank you for walking this path alongside me.
With love, Fayenen



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