I imagine gratitude, if it were a party host, as someone deeply gracious toward whoever arrives and whatever they bring.

Gratitude greets guests at the door.

Aunt Jeannie’s casserole? “Of course, we’ll put it out. Thank you!” Cousin Jack’s Costco wine in a box? “Yes, this will do just fine as well.”

In the mind of Host Gratitude, everything is welcomed as if it were a favourite, even if it wasn’t what we would have chosen ourselves.

But gratitude doesn’t mean putting on a guise, saying “thank you” while quietly thinking, ugh, this is nice, but it won’t work.

True gratitude overrides the reflex of ego and even that of sadness known too well. It pauses the inner judgment and instead says, "I can work with this.” “Somebody might like it.” “I’m glad to be in this situation, as hard as it is.”

And this posture can be applied to nearly every situation that life places in front of us.

The banquet of life

The Stoics held this view even when contemplating death.

Epictetus compared life to a banquet: we take what is offered with gratitude, don’t cling to what passes us by, and when the time comes, we leave without complaint.

Using that same image, life is time spent as a guest. You’ve sat and kibitzed. You’ve had your share of food and drink. You’ve enjoyed the conversation. And now, the evening is ending.

It doesn’t matter whether you stayed a short while at the banquet of life or an inordinate amount of time. When it’s time to leave, the Stoic response is not protest or resentment, but acceptance—to rise from the table without complaint, grateful for having been invited at all. Epictetus captured this idea with remarkable clarity. He urged us to behave in life as we would at a banquet— not grasping, not clinging, not demanding more than our share:

Remember that you must behave in life as at a banquet. Is something brought round to you? Put out your hand and take your share with moderation. Does it pass by you? Do not stop it. Is it not yet come? Do not stretch out your desire towards it, but wait till it reaches you. - Epictetus, Enchiridion,15

In other words, we are guests—not judges—of the menu, not architects of the seating chart.

I remember being at my sister’s wedding at age eleven and feeling irritated that I wasn’t sitting with my family near the head of the banquet hall. Today, I couldn’t care less—as long as I can eat in peace somewhere. Gratitude is learning how to receive what arrives, without clinging to what passes or resenting what (or who) never came.

Choosing how we see

I also remember when my mom was working, she sometimes said her co- workers would complain about their kids. I imagine my mom quietly wondering: What about their good qualities? Something you saw them doing that made you proud?

In life, we can see whatever we want to see. We paint the mosaic of our lives and interpret it accordingly. Envy and jealousy—the opposites of gratitude—can be joy killers. I once heard a boss say people shouldn’t compare annual bonus raises, because someone will inevitably walk away disappointed.

Yet when I led teams, I was struck when an employee, upon receiving a bonus, would say, “I’m grateful.” Hearing that word in a corporate setting was rare. He had high emotional intelligence, and his ability to see the larger picture was clearly a strength.

The question, then, is how we show up when something goes awry, as when life drops us into a place we didn’t anticipate or want. As the Stoics knew, fate is fickle. And with that fickleness comes the need to adapt—and to realize that beauty or benefit may still be present. One of my spiritual advisors often says there is beauty in tragedy—and lessons. There are, if we look for them.

Gratefulness has the ability to soften even the most powerful emotions such as envy, sadness, anger. Introduce gratitude into the mix, and the colour of our attitude begins to dye the fabric of our thoughts.

Gratitude is learning how to receive what arrives, without clinging to what passes or resenting what never came—letting go of bitterness over what might have been, and finding gladness in what is.

As Clarence gently reminds George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life: “You see, George, you really had a wonderful life.”

The Roman philosopher Seneca captured this beautifully when he wrote:

“Nothing is more honourable than a grateful mind.”- Seneca, Moral Letters, 81.30

Gratitude, in the end, is simply learning how to welcome what arrives.

Glenn Citerony is an Executive Wellness Coach who employs Stoic concepts to help improve people’s lives. He is passionate about Stoicism and its relevance to addressing today’s challenges. Glenn can be reached at glennciterony.com.

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