Somatic Gratitude
/Throughout history, harvest time has evoked traditions of giving thanks. Today our connection with nature’s bounty tends to be shrink-wrapped. But giving thanks for our blessings as the year draws to a close continues to be meaningful.
What are the sensations of gratitude?
I might say, “I’m so grateful for today’s rain.” (There’s a drought in California.) But those words, that thought, is an interpretation of bodily experience. Our feelings are seeded within our bodies. I know I’m grateful because of what I feel in my body.
It’s easy to distinguish the feeling of gratitude from that of, say, disappointment. But how do the sensations of gratitude differ from those of happiness, love, or relief?
A way to investigate this might be to begin by making a list of things you could be grateful for:
An estranged friend reaching out to you.
The first bite of homemade cheesecake.
Inspiring words from a mentor.
Music.
Orgasm.
Sunshine after a dark winter.
Then, while calling up a moment of gratitude, try to focus on some details about the sensations occurring in your body.
Does your gratitude have a temperature? Warm or cool?
Vibration? A pace – is it quick or slow? Undulation or tingling?
If the sensation had a sound, would it be high or low? A single note, or a chord?
Might there be a color— deep or pale?
Go on being curious, asking your own questions as you seek to more fully inhabit your sensations of thankfulness.
Continuing: where within your body do you sense the sensations? Your chest, cheeks, the skin around your eyes, the nape of your neck, your belly, thighs, wrists? Take inventory, body part by body part: is my gratitude present here? Or here?
And, does gratitude affect the rhythm of your breathing?
Practicing somatic gratitude
After doing this for myself, it occurred to me that I might be able to spread the sensations I had discerned into other areas of my body. I began with just one arm, imagining I could feel my gratitude sensations interoceptively within the skin boundary of my arm. (I remembered that the part of the brain that imagines sensation is the same part that senses sensation. If I was faking it, it would be a step in the right direction.)
Then I began to experiment with movement—not with stereotypical gestures of gratitude—but rather trying to feel the sensations of gratitude within my arm as I moved my fingers, wrist, elbow, and shoulder. (For me the sensations seemed most poignant within my joints because that’s where movement occurs. You might have a different experience.) The meditation, with just the one arm, took a long time, because I had to pause each time the gratitude sensations began to slip away.
It would have been good to move my attention to other parts of my body, but I ran out of time. The gratitude sensations seemed to seep though my body on their own, though, and I felt the inner quiet that comes after any meditation.
I hope this variation on Body Mandala practice may deepen your experience of thanksgiving this season.
© 2021 Mary Bond