Jon and I consider ourselves very fortunate people; our lives are full of blessings—work that we love and gives joy to others, a bounty of friends and family, a warm, safe home that’s tucked into the beautiful woods… and so many others.

We talk often about how grateful we feel and how that sense of gratitude is a cornerstone of our lives. And I’m fascinated by the many directions in which a sense of gratitude can take someone, such as a transactional stance, where good fortune is earned or given as a reward. For example: “I am fortunate to have food and a safe place to live because I did…” or “I am fortunate to have food and a safe place to live because God—or Buddha, or Allah—has rewarded my faithfulness…” or even an action-motivated stance like the one I grew up with: “From those to whom much is given, much is expected.”

Regardless of one’s take on it, gratitude practices have become increasingly popular, to the point where some believe that social media and merchandising have reduced gratitude to catchy phrases and framed posters. But I persevere with my gratitude journal—my collection of notebooks in which, each day, I write 3 things for which I’m grateful. This is an idea I heard on the Oprah show in the late 1990s. Now, I’d like to say that I journal every single day (I don’t) and that my journal entries are profound and the result of deep reflection (they aren’t—unless, perhaps, you consider “chocolate ice cream” profound!). And sporadic as it is, I think I’m a better person for conscious attention given to feeling grateful.

I recently read “The Chain of Gratitude,” an article in The New York Times by Melissa Kirsch. She put a new twist on gratitude, coupling it with the concept of connection, another frequent topic of my musings. Not to digress, but the current state of our world, with what feels to me like toxic levels of divisiveness, has me often thinking about how valuable—and fragile—is our sense of connection. How easy it is to forget how utterly interconnected we all are, how dependent we are on each other and how words and actions have incredible ripple effects. (I’m reminded of the “when a butterfly flaps its wings” metaphor… but I’ll leave it to someone else to discuss chaos theory!)

In her article, Kirsch describes the recent addition to her meditation practice, in which she not only reflects on gratitude, but goes further in “tracing the present-day gratitude back through all the causes and conditions that gave rise to it.” She gives the example of following backwards the gift of “a weird little deck of ‘wisdom cards’”.

It made me want to give it a try, so here’s an example from my life:

Two weeks ago, I had dinner with one of my childhood girlfriends. I’m grateful for Nancy; there’s nothing quite like the conversations that you have with someone who has known you almost your whole life! So I decided to try Melissa’s idea; what if I take a step back and think about how Nancy came into my life, and what were the circumstances that allowed that to happen?

I met Nancy in first grade —I’m grateful that she was in that class.

I didn’t start the school year in that class; I was a kindergartener who “skipped” to first grade after being tested by the school psychologist. I don’t remember a lot about that time but as the story goes, after a few months of being the most enthusiastic kindergartener ever, I started refusing to go to school. Mrs. Knutsen and I had a little conversation and I told her I was sad and upset because I had read all the books in our room and there was nothing left for me to do! Turns out there were a lot more books in first grade. And there was Nancy, my first friend in the new building. I’m grateful for that.

So, one step backwards—how did that come to be?

Turns out that, in preparation for my promotion, my first grade teacher, Mrs. Bowman, hand-picked two girls to ease my entry into the new classroom. My desk was next to Nancy’s, she walked with me everywhere—the bathroom, recess, the lunchroom. And we became best friends.

I’m grateful for Mrs. Bowman; her foresight, her sensitivity.

And I’m grateful for our principal, Mr. Whitaker, who hired Mrs. Bowman.

And I’m grateful for my mom, who served on the School Board, that hired Mr. Whitaker.

And I’m grateful for my mom —for a million other reasons.

See how this works?

When we amplify our gratitude with an exercise like this, we also have a view of the way that everything is connected. We are all connected. The good that we do ripples out in ways that we forget… or that, perhaps, we never realized in the first place.