An Attitude of Gratitude

Gratitude is a big buzzword these days, isn’t it? Everyone from Oprah to the cashier at the grocery store constantly reminds us to count our blessings. (Usually when your child is having a full-on nuclear meltdown in the checkout line.)

Personally, I think telling people to be grateful works about as well as telling a kid to eat his vegetables.

The way I see it, gratitude is a process. The more you live and the more you experience, the more it dawns on you that you have it pretty good. Often, I realize how lucky I am only by comparing myself to other people. (GASP!! As big a no-no as being ungrateful, some would have you believe. But honestly, who DOESN’T compare themselves to others? How else would you know you look better in those jeans than your coworker?)

Let me give you some examples:

You might not feel lucky to gain 40 lbs., get stretch marks, and have nausea and heartburn for 9 mos. until you meet someone who can’t get pregnant.

You might not feel grateful for suffering through 2 days of labor, a botched epidural, and an episiotomy until you meet someone whose baby was stillborn.

You might not feel lucky to have a newborn who screams all day and all night until you know someone whose infant died of SIDS.

You might not feel grateful when your toddler starts climbing out of his crib and running into coffee tables until you meet someone whose child is developmentally delayed.

You might not feel grateful for your meddling parents and in-laws (not me!) until you meet someone who doesn’t have any parents.

You might not feel too grateful for your tiny, yard-less apartment until you meet someone who’s being eaten alive by their mortgage.

You might not feel grateful for your stressful, thankless job until you meet a mom who can’t afford to work. (That’s right, I said “can’t afford TO work” not “can’t afford NOT to work.” These people do exist, you know.)

Too often, I think gratitude goes hand-in-hand with guilt. We beat ourselves up because we should feel grateful for our healthy kids, our loving spouse, a roof over our heads, etc. And it becomes just another thing to feel bad about, another way we’re not measuring up.

But I find that if you let it, gratitude will sneak up on you when you least expect it. When your children are not fighting for once, say, and are sitting together watching TV. Or when your husband comes home early. Or when it’s a beautiful, sunny fall day and you’re sitting in the preschool pick-up line with the windows open and a good song comes on the radio.

Those are the moments when I think to myself, “This. For this, I am grateful.” No reminders from Oprah necessary.

LINK O’ THE WEEK: “The Prosperous Writer” Christina Katz recently invited writers to share their thoughts about gratitude. Read their responses here.

NEWS O’ THE WEEK: Speaking of Christina Katz, she and I are launching a new session of online writing classes starting Nov. 3! Six lessons in 6 weeks, all via e-mail so you can participate anywhere, anytime. The focus is on getting published, and boy, are our students getting published! In national and regional magazines, alumni publications, web sites, and more.

The deadline to register is Oct. 26, so act now if you want a spot. Class sizes are limited so students can get individual attention and critiques of their writing. Christina’s “Writing & Publishing the Short Stuff” is designed specifically for moms with busy lives.

My first-ever advanced class, “Personal Essays that Get Published: Level 2” is designed for my previous students who want to delve in deeper to this ever-popular genre. Join me! The class is a blast, trust me. :) Go here for more info and to register.

Confessions of a Belated Writing Instructor

I was raised by 2 teachers. As far back as I can remember, my parents spent their evenings grading papers and had summers off. Like many children, however, I had zero interest in following in my parents’ footsteps. I wanted a corporate job in a big city. Skyscrapers, suits, business trips -- bring it on! It sounded so glamorous and important. I set my sights on publishing or advertising.

My first hint that maybe corporate life wasn’t so glamorous was a stint at a glossy NYC magazine in college. Then, the only job I could get after graduation was an unpaid internship at a regional magazine, which I supplemented with a job answering phones. So much for summers off.

I eventually worked up to a series of paying jobs at various magazines, communications depts., and internet companies. At the “height” of my career (I use the term loosely) I was making more money than I ever had and writing next to nothing. I wanted to jump off a bridge.

I became a freelance writer instead. Fast forward to a couple months after I had my first baby, when I was desperate to regain some semblance of my former professional, adult self. I found an online writing class that sounded perfect: “Writing and Publishing the Short Stuff: Especially for Moms.”

I was wowed. First, by the caliber of the instructor, Christina Katz. (You may know her as author of "Writer Mama," @thewritermama, or The Prosperous Writer.) She wasn’t a top editor at a big-name magazine like some of the instructors I’d had. She wasn’t affiliated with an Ivy League university. But boy, did she know her stuff. Her approach was positive and practical, a far cry from the snarky, “good-luck-you’ll-need-it” tone of many resources geared toward aspiring writers.

Christina was better, in fact, than some of my professors in a graduate program in publishing I’d completed years earlier. I’ll never forget what my thesis advisor said to me when, despite my top grades, I was having trouble finding a job: “Sorry, but I can’t really help you with that. I’ve never worked in publishing.”

Anyway, Christina and I hit it off and she asked me to be her teaching assistant for the next class. Eventually, she offered me my own class. Me? TEACH?! Remember my childhood vow to not follow my parents’ path? Except...

The idea was kind of appealing. I DID enjoy helping people improve their writing, and I HAD spent years and years studying and working in the publishing business. Since the classes were taught via e-mail, I could even fit them into my busy life as a mom. I decided to give teaching a shot.

Two years and 7 classes later, I can’t believe I didn’t start sooner. I have met some fascinating people and helped dozens of writers polish their work, gain confidence, and send their words out into the world.

And guess what? They’re getting published left and right! In regional parenting magazines, on web sites, in prestigious places like the Erma Bombeck Humor Writing Contest, Southern Living, the New York Times, and NPR!

So it turns out maybe teaching IS in my blood. I’ve accepted it. I embrace it. And I don’t even mind grading papers.

NEWS O’ THE WEEK: Due to popular demand, I am developing a Level 2 essay class that will launch in Nov. I am devoting nights, weekends, and naptimes to designing a course that delves deeper into how to write great personal essays and get them published.

In the meantime, registration is open for my intro class, “Personal Essays that Get Published,” which starts Sept. 8. (BTW, it’s a prerequisite for the Level 2 class.) For more info, student testimonials, and to sign up, go here.

'Bitch Face' and the Road to Happiness

I occasionally suffer from a condition commonly known as “bitch face.” It’s involuntary, and I’m usually not even aware of it. It’s plagued me throughout my life, however.

People have often told me that before they knew me they thought I was stuck up, unfriendly, and/or unhappy. When I was single, a favorite pick-up line of guys in bars was, “Smile!” or “Cheer up!” (Shockingly, this line was ineffective and only made me want to punch the guy out.)

In fact, my self-consciousness and shyness were a big part of the problem. Most of the people I know who go around smiling all the time are pretty confident, outgoing types. Me? I’m a writer and blogger who doesn’t even use her real name or photo here. Draw your own conclusions.

I’ve learned a lot in my almost 36 years of life, though. Most lessons I have to learn over and over before they “stick,” BTW. But one of those is, if you smile people are nicer to you. And if people are nicer to you, you feel better about yourself. And if you feel better about yourself, you’re a happier person. Is that profound or what?

Fortunately, I smile a lot more these days. Mostly because I have 2 adorable kids I love more than anything. I dare you not to smile when you see tiny jean-clad butt or a miniature pair of rain boots. Or a round little Buddha belly or a peanut-butter-smeared, dimpled face. Go on, I DARE YOU.

Another lesson I’ve learned about happiness? It’s a choice. When I was younger, I used to think that circumstances determined a person’s happiness. If only I had a job I liked, I’d be happy. If only I had a boyfriend, I’d be happy. If I only I had a better body, nicer apartment, more friends, a bigger paycheck … you get the picture. Is it any wonder I was often miserable?

Becoming a freelance writer actually made things worse for a while. I gave up a high-paying job to sit in solitude in front of my computer all day, sending out queries and getting back rejections -- or worse, nothing but silence. I joined a writers’ group and soaked up the anxiety and negativity of the most vocal members. Every acceptance made my heart soar, every rejection stung like a slap in the face.

To be honest, it was a relief when I got married and then pregnant with my first child. I could focus on something else for a while. I eventually went back to writing, but things were different. First of all, I welcomed what little solitude I could find. Second, I connected with other writers online and started writing again for pleasure by starting a blog.

I did less pitching and got more work through networking and referrals, including some of my biggest career successes to date. And the highs and lows evened out because I no longer had my ego and self-worth all tied up with my profession. I had one, and now 2 little boys to remind me of what’s really important.

It kind of sneaked up on me, but I have realized I am finally happy. Sure, I still have struggles and disappointments, but deep down I am content and at peace with my life. And that’s enough to make anyone smile.

SHOUT OUT: To my fellow writer Christina Katz, the original Writer Mama, The Prosperous Writer, and the inspiration for this post. I'm fairly certain she never has bitch face. When I took her class 2 mos. after becoming a new mom, I never dreamed it would set me on the path I’m on today. Thanks, dear!

You, too, can take her class, Writing & Publishing the Short Stuff, or my class, Personal Essays that Get Published, both starting May 12. You'll be glad you did!