Gratitude often appears on lists of things we should do to feel better, right alongside sleep, movement, and mindfulness. But it’s easy to dismiss it as sentimental, or to think it only counts when it’s big or dramatic. In reality, gratitude in later life often arrives quietly. A shaft of morning light. The face of someone who stayed. The resilience in our own hands.
I became curious about how gratitude might fit more intentionally into the ThriveSpan landscape, as a practice that might support wellbeing, even in difficult seasons. Around that time, I came across a reflection by Arthur C. Brooks in The Atlantic, referencing a 2022 study in Affective Science. The study asked participants to carry out small gratitude tasks for a week, writing a letter of thanks, texting someone, or simply noticing the good in ordinary life. All three methods increased life satisfaction.
Inspired by this, I decided to try my own experiment. Each morning for seven days, I spent five quiet minutes thinking about someone who had shaped my life in a positive way. Sometimes I wrote a quick note. Sometimes I sent a text. Sometimes I simply sat with the feeling. It was a modest practice, but it changed the texture of my days. Not everything got easier, but more things felt meaningful. It was a shift in attention, not in circumstance.
We often think of gratitude as something we feel. But it can also be something we do. Especially in later life, when rhythms shift and some relationships fall away, choosing to focus on what remains can be an act of resilience. Gratitude helps us notice what’s still here, and how far we’ve already come.
Coaching Prompt: Noticing the Good That Remains
What have you quietly appreciated lately, however small or fleeting?
Who or what has stayed with you over time, and how might you acknowledge that today?
This prompt invites a gentle shift of attention. Not to ignore difficulty, but to notice what’s still present, still sustaining. It could be a person, a place, a ritual, or something in nature. Gratitude doesn’t need grandeur. It often lives in the ordinary.
Try this:
Take five quiet minutes each day this week. Sit with the question, and just notice what arises. You don’t need to write it down (though you can). Let it be light. Let it be real. A small moment of connection. A cup of tea in peace. A friend who still checks in. The green of the trees outside your window.
This is how we begin to feel what’s already good. Even in the midst of change. Even when things feel uncertain.
This is enough for you to move forward over the next week; I’ve created a more detailed activity for paid subscribers; it is something we will talk about when we meet for our online gathering on Thursday at 1pm (UK Time). It’s not too late to sign up and if you can’t make it, you will get the recording.