My Process to Gratitude...

03. Gratitude Circle with Amirah Jones

Calling All Writers: I've started a new community series called THE GRATITUDE CIRCLE. This series will feature folks who want to share their stories of gratitude and life lessons. I welcome anyone who writes to submit. THE GRATITUDE CIRCLE aims to build community and share my platform with fellow writers, truth-tellers, and everyone else in between who has something to say and share. I’m looking forward to sharing this space with you.

To learn more about how to submit, please refer to this link. 

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Note from Alex: When I read Amirah's essay, I deeply appreciated her authenticity. Life is complicated and unpredictable. Reading how she found gratitude amid the challenges was moving. I hope you all enjoy it and it sparks something in your spirit. 

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In recent years, the concept of gratitude has been casually tossed around as if it is the simplest trait to adopt for all situations. Yet, how easily can someone embrace it during life's most unforeseen moments? I started journaling in elementary school but embarked on an additional ritual in 2020 —writing one sentence each morning about something I am grateful for. From relocating my personal belongings into a storage unit, feeling like I wasn't doing enough in my career, to sitting with the fact that the man I cherished wasn't ready for a relationship, every twist of fate led me deeper into self-discovery. A surprising emotion emerged through my introspection: gratitude. A step-by-step process of honesty, grieving, and surrendering empowered me throughout—leading me to express gratitude for the people, places, and things I had experienced when life was its most unpredictable self. 

Being honest was instilled in me as a young girl but the challenge of maintaining honesty with oneself became apparent later in life. In my late 20s, with a major shift in my living situation, I sported a big smile on the outside while spiraling internally. For months, the walls of the bathroom in my parent's home witnessed my ever-flowing tears of embarrassment and disappointment. My vibrant, art-filled sanctuary where I could blast my music and find peace was no longer. My belongings were locked away in a storage unit. Lying to myself and others about my feelings was routine for me until one random morning. 

During a recent therapy session, I had had enough and realized I had outgrown the apartment lifestyle. Owning a beautiful home in my favorite city had been at the root of my desires since childhood but an artist being able to comfortably live her best life in one of the most expensive cities in the world? The "starving artist" narrative had been pushed on me for too long. This transitional phase created a reimagining of those aspirations little Amirah held. Looking at this temporary living arrangement from a space of gratitude made me think, perhaps it was a necessary step, paving the way for something even more significant and splendid. Expressing gratitude for what originally seemed like a step back became a revelation of my growth as a woman being reconnected with her wildest but capable dreams.

My creative journey in 2023 included beautiful projects and building valuable connections with amazing artists. Still, it was also filled with ignored pitches and promising meetings that left me exhilarated, only to be ghosted. It became the slowest year of my full-time entrepreneur journey. Was I not a phenomenal wardrobe stylist? Did my writing suck? Fellow artists resonated with the sluggish pace of work but I still took it personally as if 2023 had beef with me. One of my dearest friends, Storm, offered a valuable perspective: grieving was not only acceptable but necessary. Initially, I had only associated grief with a physical transition. As I began to see my surroundings crumbling, in need of rebuilding on a sturdier foundation, her words made sense and allowed me to grieve unrealized expectations, be compassionate with myself, and let go of the fake timeline society puts on us. 

The art of manifesting has been a skill of mine before I knew the word or concept. I penned a specific list for God and my ancestors about the kind of man I wanted in my life. Now, before you roll your eyes or laugh, hear me out—this wasn't a list filled with physical attributes but rather character traits that resonated deeply with my values, like believing in God, being kind-hearted, wanting children, being passionate about Black people and our culture. Despite going on dates, none managed to keep my attention. Fast forward a few months, and I reconnected with a man I met a few years prior. Getting to know each other felt like I had known him my entire life. He was special, teaching me about new topics, introducing me to music genres, and just an overall great human. In every way, I felt safe with him. Never before had I felt at home with anyone romantically, yet here I was, very cozy whenever I stared into his eyes as he talked enthusiastically about life or on the phone as we laughed hysterically about the most random things. 

He checked off everything on my list, but he was not ready to be in a relationship. His reasons were understandable. While I genuinely respect him and his choices, I was crushed. Despite always being secure in his presence, anxiety crept in when expressing my feelings. The old wounds from my past were still engrained. The kindness and attentiveness he displayed made being honest with him and with myself easier. Navigating through the grieving process, tears flowed, and my journal entries multiplied. The most challenging yet crucial aspect was surrendering and releasing the coulda, shoulda, and wouldas that had accumulated in my heart and mind. I acknowledged that our spiritual paths aligned for a reason, allowing us to enter each other's lives and share unforgettable moments and conversations. This realization was enough to lift me out of sorrow, promoting a sense of gratitude for the beautiful experience. 

While social media makes gratitude seem easy, my journey attests that sometimes embracing it isn't always a smooth path. Finding beauty in various situations has contributed to my evolution. The first step involved being honest with myself. In the words of Kendrick Lamar, "I grieve different," emphasizing my need to be sad or mad. Recalling my mother's wisdom, "You can feel how you feel when you're sad, but don't stay there," I felt deeply during moments of surrender. It became a guiding principle, urging me to let go and be grateful for the experiences that God orchestrated. Ultimately, my unique process of gratitude brings me peace in appreciating the multifaceted journey that led me to where and who I am today.

Amirah A. Jones is a writer living in Brooklyn by way of Philly. She is consistently painting her life with vibrant strokes of authenticity rooted in her rich Black culture, through fashion, storytelling, and poetry.

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