A Circuitous Route
to Appreciation

by Anet Paulina

Periodically I play an “appreciation game” and practice acknowledging people, things, events, and characteristics about myself that I truly am grateful for.

Recently I found myself making a mental list of things I appreciated, acknowledging the benefits derived from each. The appreciation game always lifts my spirits, but this time I was surprised to notice I was feeling almost euphoric. I reviewed the list of things I was appreciating, hoping to find a clue as to why I was more strongly affected than usual.

I appreciate my plump Slovak cheeks. In my youth, I despised the “fat face” that made me unphotogenic and was incongruous with my thin body. If I could have selectively lost weight in my face, I definitely would have done so! What I did not realize at the time is that facial fat naturally diminishes over the years, and having a fair amount of it to start with makes a mature person look younger. From my present perspective, I view my Slovak cheeks as a blessing.

I appreciate the relationship debacle that was so sudden and extreme that it felt like being hurled off a cliff onto jagged rocks. Three weeks before we were to move to a new location together, my fiancé (who had a history of instability I had conveniently disregarded in our short-but-intense liaison) abruptly ended our relationship for no apparent reason and completely stopped communicating with me. Rather than encasing me in emotional scar tissue, the experience catapulted me onto a path of personal growth so profound that I am scarcely the same person I was two years ago.

I appreciate breaking my arm. Fracturing my left radial bone in a freak accident a few years ago provided experiential proof that I could handle intense physical pain without prescription drugs, adapt easily to a temporary disability, and recover from a significant injury quickly and completely. It also gave me insight into the value of recognizing that I need to make major life changes rather than creating a traumatic “wakeup call.”

I appreciate having had anorexia nervosa. The hell of starving myself to skeletal proportions when I was 19 years old has provided me (a person who rarely drinks alcohol and has never used recreational drugs) the ability to understand the challenges of people who struggle with addictions and substance abuse problems. It also gave me the confidence that I can bounce back from emotional illness and helped me be more accepting of others who are dealing with such issues.

It dawned on me that the difference in the appreciation game this time was that everything I was acknowledging and appreciating was something I once considered terrible! Allowing myself to see the value in “negative” manifestations was affecting me more profoundly than my usual practice of appreciating “positive” things.

All the manifestations I was appreciating were things that ‐ at the time they were occurring ‐ I was 100 percent sure I did not want. I cannot count the number of times in my teens that I looked in a mirror, sucked in my cheeks, and wished my face were thinner. When the relationship in which I had invested all my hopes and dreams disintegrated overnight, all I wanted was for things to return to the way they had been a week earlier. Lying on the sofa with a newly broken arm, I wished repeatedly that I could go back a few hours and choose not to put myself in the situation that resulted in the injury. Weighing 75 pounds and afraid to eat a meal, I just wanted to be normal again. There was no ambivalence in my feelings about any of the situations when they were happening; I was suffering and wanted things to be different. But now, from the vantage point of years or decades later, I realize that I would not erase any of those painful experiences even if I could ‐ each brought with it great gifts.

Exploring the idea further, I recognized that for every past “negative” manifestation I could think of, I could identify at least one significant benefit I derived from it. If nothing else, the experience proved I could survive a difficult situation and allowed me to understand and empathize with others who are dealing with similar challenges. In addition, the experiences helped me learn about myself, becoming aware of my characteristics and preferences in ways I might not be cognizant of otherwise.

After having this insight, I noticed that when I would start thinking about something I did not like or was struggling with, my reaction was different from what it typically had been. Rather than following my habitual route of thinking I would be happy if only things were different, I found myself viewing the undesired manifestation as a gift I simply had not yet recognized the value of. In some cases, I began picking up clues as to what its purpose might be and how I could start reaping the benefits. Most importantly, I stopped resisting and opposing the manifestation (which only serves to perpetuate and strengthen it).

If every “negative” situation I have experienced has in fact been a blessing, perhaps I can trust that the undesirable things in my life now — those I most want to change — are actually beneficial! When a bad thing happens, I can believe that (regardless of how terrible it may seem at the time) there is a gift in it for me. How do I know this? Because I have decades of experience that prove it is always true.

And, I would postulate, the same applies to everyone reading these words.