More Than a Mantra: A Nurse-Herbalist’s Approach to Gratitude Practice
By Mae — Herbalist. Healer. Your grandmother's remedies, backed by a nurse's knowledge. ·
Beyond the Surface of Gratitude
It’s June in Portland, and the roses in my garden are finally waking up. There’s a specific quality to the light this month—a golden, persistent warmth that reminds me of my grandmother’s kitchen in Guangdong. In my twenty-five years at OHSU, I saw a lot of things. I saw the absolute limits of human endurance and the quiet, miraculous resilience of the body. I also saw how quickly we forget to acknowledge the small, structural pieces that hold our lives together.
Lately, everyone is talking about 'gratitude practice.' It’s become a bit of a buzzword, hasn't it? People suggest writing three things down in a notebook, saying a quick mantra, and calling it a day. While I’m never going to knock a positive mindset, I think we’re missing the physiology of it. From a clinical perspective, gratitude isn’t just a nice thought; it’s a systemic recalibration. It’s a signal sent from your prefrontal cortex to your amygdala that says, We are safe here.
The Anatomy of Appreciation
When I studied traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) after retiring from nursing, I learned to view the body not as a collection of parts, but as a garden. In TCM, the Heart is the 'Emperor'—it houses the Shen, or spirit. When we are stuck in a cycle of lack or stress, the Shen becomes restless.
Modern neuroscience confirms what the ancients suspected: chronic stress keeps our nervous system in a state of sympathetic dominance—the fight-or-flight mode. When we practice gratitude, we shift into parasympathetic dominance. We aren’t just being 'nice'; we are actively lowering our cortisol levels and encouraging the release of dopamine and serotonin. It’s a biological intervention. It is medicine.
Moving Beyond the Notebook
If you’re anything like me, writing a list at the end of a long day can feel like just another chore on the checklist. As a nurse, I learned that the most effective interventions are the ones that integrate seamlessly into the body’s natural rhythms. We need to move gratitude from the notebook and into the marrow.
Here are three ways I practice gratitude that go beyond a pen and paper:
1. The 'Transition' Breath
During my nursing years, I moved from one patient room to another, sometimes carrying the weight of a difficult prognosis. I developed a habit I still use today. Before I open any door—be it my office, my front door, or my garden gate—I pause. I take one deep, diaphragmatic breath. On the inhale, I acknowledge the ground beneath my feet. On the exhale, I silently name one thing that is currently functioning perfectly in my body—the rhythmic beat of my heart, the ease of my digestion, or the clarity of my vision. It’s a somatic reminder that before I face the world, I am whole.
2. Herbal Infusions as Ritual
I am a firm believer that we should taste our gratitude. In the late afternoon, I prepare a warm infusion—usually a blend of lemon balm and holy basil (Tulsi). As the hot water hits the herbs, I watch the color bloom. Instead of rushing to drink it while checking my email, I stand at my kitchen counter and hold the warm mug. I thank the soil, the rain, and the hands that harvested the plants. It takes three minutes. It’s an act of mindfulness that acknowledges the web of life that sustains us. When you drink with intention, the medicine works harder.
3. The Tai Chi 'Acknowledgement'
My daily Tai Chi practice is a moving meditation. There is a movement where you push the hands forward—the 'Push' or Tui. In my practice, I don't just push air. I visualize pushing away the noise of the day while pulling in an acknowledgement of abundance. If your body doesn't need to move, try a simple body scan. Start at your toes and move up, thanking each group of muscles for the work they’ve done today. It’s impossible to feel cynical when you are genuinely thanking your hamstrings for carrying you through the day.
Why We Resist
I’ve noticed that some of my workshop students find this difficult. They feel guilty acknowledging good things when the world feels so heavy. I get it. I’ve worked in hospitals where sorrow was the air we breathed. But here is the truth, backed by both my nursing experience and my herbal studies: you cannot pour from an empty cup.
Gratitude is not a denial of the suffering in the world. It is the fuel that allows you to show up for it. When we acknowledge what is working, we build the stamina to address what isn't.
A Final Thought
Tonight, don't worry about finding a fancy journal. Just find a quiet moment. Maybe it’s while you’re washing dishes or waiting for the kettle to boil. Feel the temperature of the water. Feel your feet on the floor. Take a breath and recognize the miracle of your own existence. That, my dear, is the most powerful medicine you have access to.
What does your gratitude practice look like these days? Are you feeling the shift, or are you needing a little help finding the rhythm? Drop a comment below or send me a note—I’d love to hear how you’re keeping your internal garden well-watered this June.
Be well,
Mae