Happy Spring Reader,
I have learned that some of the most profound lessons in gratitude come when we pay attention along life’s winding road to the wrong turn, the unexpected kindness of strangers, or the pain we didn’t plan for. Both the happy and unhappy accidents reveal how interconnected we are and what we’re here to learn from one another.
The journey—both literal and emotional—is always our teacher if we stay awake to it. It uproots us from comfort and reminds us how much we rely on others. In those moments of disorientation or discomfort, something can shift our perspective—if we let it. Gratitude.
Gratitude
On our recent trip to Los Angeles to visit our son Jake, I was reminded how travel can bring out the worst in me: feelings of lack, worry about what might go wrong, anxiety over how little control I have in this vast, interconnected web of humanity.
As we prepared for the trip, my mind performed its usual gymnastics, fueled by nerves. We don’t have enough money. I can’t go to L.A. with my hair looking like this. What if we don’t make it to the car rental in time? Instead of focusing on how grateful I was to be going to L.A. with my son, daughter, and their partners—finally enjoying the change of scenery I’d been craving—I spiraled.
So, I got my hair foiled and bought two new pairs of pants (because apparently, gratitude for the ones I had wasn’t enough). Then I reminded myself of the most powerful tool I have for changing my experience and transmuting negativity into light: gratitude.
As I calmed myself and began to appreciate each step of the journey, things unfolded beautifully. The shared airport van came early and was just for us. There was no traffic going into Logan. The plane landed at LAX ahead of schedule. A kind shuttle driver who called me Sugar got us to Fox Rental Car just before they closed at 12:30 a.m. The house we’d booked—with no reviews, looking too good to be true—turned out to be even better than expected: a dream retreat in the Hollywood Hills, complete with gorgeous statues and a library that felt like it was curated just for me.
Have you ever noticed how, once you start expressing gratitude, more reasons to be grateful seem to appear? It’s as if the act of noticing the good creates space for even more. This isn’t just woo-woo—it’s neuroscience. When we consciously acknowledge what we have, we shift attention from what’s missing to what’s present. This activates neural pathways that reward us with positive emotion. The more we practice gratitude, the stronger those pathways become. We are training the brain to be on the lookout for more good. Gratitude begets more gratitude.
Every time we started to fret—about being late, about missing out—we paused and took a breath. Things worked out. I credit the attitude of gratitude. At each turn of good fortune, I stopped, savored the moment, and sealed it with thanks. When stress or annoyance crept in, I recalled the quote: “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”
Travel illuminates the web of interconnection of which we are all a part. I found myself grateful not only to the van driver and pilot, but to the countless people behind the scenes—a whole host and team of engineers, laborers, and hospitality workers that made our travel possible, those who built the transportation systems, laid the runways, managed air traffic, all made the journey possible. Praise to the miracle of infrastructure! Praise to all the invisible hands that contributed to our trip.
“Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.” — Eckhart Tolle
Indigenous cultures, Buddhist philosophy, and African spiritual traditions all express this truth: to be alive is to be in debt. Not in the capitalistic sense, but in a spiritual one. Every breath is a gift from our ancestors and the trees. Every meal is the labor of hands we may never meet. Every safe, beautiful, or comfortable moment is made possible by others—human, animal, elemental—all holding us.
I am reminded of Thich Nhat Hanh’s concept of interbeing that teaches us “to be is to inter-be.” He uses a sheet of paper to illustrate that everything is in a sheet of paper: the sun, the rain, the tree, its pulp, the logger, the logger’s parents, what the logger had for breakfast… We have nothing, we get nowhere on our own.
Gratitude's Shadow
It’s easy to be grateful when things go our way. But can we summon gratitude in pain, loss, and betrayal?
If we want to truly master gratitude, we must learn to appreciate even the painful moments. As the Dalai Lama said, “When you lose, don't lose the lesson.” With the hindsight of 56 years, I can now see that every failure, trauma, and slammed door was a blessing—or at least a necessary life lesson. Rather than waiting for hindsight, I try to stay present with the pain, trusting that something essential is being revealed.
Gratitude is not just for when all goes well–not just for the happy accidents, but for the painful ones too. When we start to see both the joy and the wreckage as part of our life’s curriculum, gratitude becomes more than a feeling. It becomes the thread that ties us to the present moment, the stitches that hold our journey together, and the web of interconnection.
Functional MRI studies show that practicing gratitude lights up brain regions involved in empathy, moral reasoning, and decision-making. Gratitude helps us reflect more deeply, connect more genuinely, and grow more resilient. It doesn’t just feel good—it rewires the brain.
I almost didn’t go on this trip, but my son, Jake, had recently been in a car accident. Beyond the physical injuries, I suspected he felt betrayed by his employer—a TikTok star he worked for and considered a friend—whose reckless driving caused the crash. Long story short, Jake had seen the dark side of fame and business. I knew I needed to be with him.
Even before our discussion on using gratitude to change the place he was standing in, he was transforming physical pain and emotional disappointment with gratitude by finding meaning. He realized the accident taught him about boundaries and gave him clarity on several matters that he had been avoiding. He didn’t have to be thankful for the hurt, but he could appreciate what it revealed. I was proud of him for coming to this realization on his own without my lecture.
However, I did share with him the 90-second rule of emotions that I learned through a favorite TED Talk. According to neuroscience, the physiological response to an emotional trigger lasts just 90 seconds—unless we prolong it with the stories we tell ourselves. For instance, your boss says something that makes you feel dismissed. The physiological wave hits you: you feel it in your chest, your face flushes, and your mind spirals. That feeling should pass in 90 seconds. But instead, we feed it: I’m so stupid. Why did I say that? They don’t appreciate me. I should just quit. Instead of noticing the feelings, letting emotions pass, and receiving the lesson, we perpetuate the feelings with our thoughts and stories.
We can’t control what happens to us, only how we respond. We can stay stuck in pain, or we can use gratitude to help us heal and grow. We can see people as venomous spiders out to hurt us, or we can see them as part of our life’s curriculum, another teacher in the web of humanity. We can prolong grief or turn it into a celebration.
Jake is learning that gratitude doesn’t erase pain, but it helps us metabolize it. When we honor what we’ve lost and thank the loss for what it has shown us, we begin to regenerate.
Gratitude activates parts of the brain tied to emotional regulation and perspective. It doesn’t change the facts. It changes our relationship to them. That’s where healing begins.
What breaks us can also wake us. Just as fire leaves behind nourishing ash and awakens dormant seeds, pain can awaken hidden strength. After every storm, we find resilience and a deeper sense of peace. With a failed and lost love, we learn what to look for and appreciate in our next relationship.
Mindfulness and gratitude practices have taught me that with every joy and every loss, we are threaded to something larger. And so I look around and say thank you. Thank you to Steph for watching the animals. To our generous VRBO host for sharing her amazing place. To the drivers and chefs. To Luke, who makes everything more joyful. To the health of my children—I am grateful. So deeply grateful.
Wishing you only happy accident,
Jess
A gift for you: 5 Minute Gratitude Meditation.mp3
