فصل 04

Gratitude

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is Thank you, it will be enough.

—Meister Eckhart For years Ive been advocating the power and pleasure of being grateful. I kept a gratitude journal for a full decade without fail—and urged everyone I knew to do the same. Then life got busy. My schedule overwhelmed me. I still opened my journal some nights, but my ritual of writing down five things I was grateful for every day started slipping away.

Heres what I was grateful for on October 12, 1996

1. A run around Floridas Fisher Island with a slight breeze that kept me cool.

2. Eating cold melon on a bench in the sun.

3. A long and hilarious chat with Gayle about her blind date with Mr. Potato Head.

4. Sorbet in a cone, so sweet that I licked my finger.

5. Maya Angelou calling to read me a new poem.

A few years ago, when I came across that journal entry, I wondered why I no longer felt the joy of simple moments. Since 1996, I had accumulated more wealth, more responsibility, more possessions everything, it seemed, had grown exponentially—except my happiness. How had I, with all my options and opportunities, become one of those people who never have time to feel delight? I was stretched in so many directions, I wasnt feeling much of anything. Too busy doing.

But the truth is, I was busy in 1996, too. I just made gratitude a daily priority. I went through the day looking for things to be grateful for, and something always showed up.

Sometimes we get so focused on the difficulty of our climb that we lose sight of being grateful for simply having a mountain to climb.

My life is still crazy busy. Today, though, Im continuously grateful for having the stamina to keep going. And Im back to journaling electronically, this time around. Whenever theres a grateful moment, I note it. I know for sure that appreciating whatever shows up for you in life changes your whole world. You radiate and generate more goodness for yourself when youre aware of all you have and not focusing on your have-nots.

I know for sure If you make time for a little gratitude every day, youll be amazed by the results.

Say thank-you! Many years ago, those words from Maya Angelou turned my life around. I was on the phone with her, sitting in my bathroom with the door closed and the toilet lid down, weeping so uncontrollably that I was incoherent.

Stop it! Maya chided. Stop it right now and say thank-you!

But you—you dont understand, I sobbed. To this day, I cant remember what it was that had me so far gone, which only proves the point Maya was trying to make.

I do understand, she told me. I want to hear you say it now. Out loud. Thank you.

Tentatively, I repeated it Thank you. And then snuffled some more. But what am I saying thank-you for?

Youre saying thank-you, Maya said, because your faith is so strong that you dont doubt that whatever the problem, youll get through it. Youre saying thank-you because you know that even in the eye of the storm, God has put a rainbow in the clouds. Youre saying thank-you because you know theres no problem created that can compare to the Creator of all things. Say thank-you!

So I did—and still do.

Being grateful all the time isnt easy. But its when you feel least thankful that you are most in need of what gratitude can give you perspective. Gratitude can transform any situation. It alters your vibration, moving you from negative energy to positive. Its the quickest, easiest, most powerful way to effect change in your life—this I know for sure.

Heres the gift of gratitude In order to feel it, your ego has to take a backseat. What shows up in its place is greater compassion and understanding. Instead of being frustrated, you choose appreciation. And the more grateful you become, the more you have to be grateful for.

Maya Angelou was so right. Whatever youre going through, you will do just that go through it. It will pass. So say thank-you now. Because you know the rainbow is coming.

The amount of time and energy Ive spent thinking about what my next meal will be is incalculable what to eat, what I just ate, how many calories or grams of fat it contains, how much exercise Ill need to do to burn it off, what if I dont work out, how long will it take to manifest as extra pounds, and on and on. Food has been on my mind a lot over the years.

I still have the check I wrote to my first diet doctor—Baltimore, 1977. I was 23 years old, 148 pounds, a size 8, and I thought I was fat. The doctor put me on a 1,200-calorie regimen, and in less than two weeks I had lost 10 pounds. Two months later, Id regained 12. Thus began the cycle of discontent, the struggle with my body. With myself.

I joined the dieting brigade—signing on for the Beverly Hills, Atkins, Scarsdale, Cabbage Soup, and even the Banana, Hot Dog, and Egg diets. You think Im kidding. I wish. What I didnt know is that with each diet, I was starving my muscles, slowing my metabolism, and setting myself up to gain even more weight. Around 1995, after almost two decades of yo-yoing, I finally realized that being grateful for my body, whatever shape it was in, was the key to giving more love to myself.

But although I made that connection intellectually, living it was a different story. It wasnt until about six years later, after six months of unexplained heart palpitations, that I finally got it. On December 19, 2001, I wrote in my journal One thing is for sure—having palpitations at night makes me more aware of being happy to awaken in the morning, more grateful for each day. I stopped taking my heart for granted and began thanking it for every beat it had ever given me. I marveled at the wonder of it In 47 years, Id never consciously given a thought to what my heart does, feeding oxygen to my lungs, liver, pancreas, even my brain, one beat at a time.

For so many years, I had let my heart down by not giving it the support it needed. Overeating. Overstressing. Overdoing. No wonder when I lay down at night it couldnt stop racing. I believe everything that happens in our lives has meaning, that each experience brings a message, if were willing to hear it. So what was my speeding heart trying to tell me? I still didnt know the answer. Yet simply asking the question caused me to look at my body and how I had failed to honor it. How every diet I had ever been on was because I wanted to fit into something—or just fit in. Taking care of my heart, the life force of my body, had never been my priority.

I sat up in bed one crisp, sunny morning and made a vow to love my heart. To treat it with respect. To feed and nurture it. To work it out and then let it rest. And then one night when I was getting out of the tub, I glanced in the full-length mirror. For the first time, I didnt launch into my self-criticism. I actually felt a warming sense of gratitude for what I saw. My hair braided, not a stitch of makeup on, face clean. Eyes bright, alive. Shoulders and neck strong and firm. I was thankful for the body I lived in.

I did a head-to-toe assessment, and though there was plenty of room for improvement, I no longer hated any part of myself, even the cellulite. I thought, This is the body youve been given—love what youve got. So I started truly loving the face I was born with the lines I had under my eyes at age 2 have gotten deeper, but theyre my lines. The broad nose I tried to lift, when I was 8, by sleeping with a clothespin and two cotton balls on the sides, is the nose Ive grown into. The full lips I used to pull in when smiling are the lips Ive used to speak to millions of people every day—my lips need to be full.

In that moment, as I stood before the mirror, I had my own spiritual transformation/a root revival of love, which Carolyn M. Rodgers writes of in one of my favorite poems, Some Me of Beauty.

What I know for sure There is no need to struggle with your body when you can make a loving and grateful peace with it.

I live in the space of thankfulness—and for that, I have been rewarded a million times over. I started out giving thanks for small things, and the more thankful I became, the more my bounty increased. Thats because—for sure—what you focus on expands. When you focus on the goodness in your life, you create more of it.

Weve all heard that its more blessed to give than to receive. Well, I know for sure that its also a lot more fun. Nothing makes me happier than a gift well given and joyfully received.

I can honestly say that every gift Ive ever given has brought at least as much happiness to me as it has to the person Ive given it to. I give as I feel. Throughout the year, that may mean mailing a handwritten note to someone who didnt expect it. Or sending a great new lotion I just discovered, or delivering a book of poetry with a pretty bow. It doesnt matter what the thing is what matters is how much of yourself goes into the giving, so that when the gift is gone, the spirit of you lingers.

My friend Geneviève once left a white bowl of bright yellow lemons with their stems and leaves, freshly picked from her backyard and tied with a green ribbon, on my front doorstep with a note that said Good morning. The whole presentation was so beautiful in its simplicity that long after the lemons shriveled, I felt the spirit of the gift every time I passed the place where the bowl had been set. I now keep a bowl filled with lemons to remind me of that Good morning.

You may have heard about the time I gave away a bunch of cars on my show. Pontiac G6s. It was the most fun Id ever had on TV. But before the great giveaway, I sat meditating in my darkened closet, trying to stay in the moment and not get anxious about the big surprise that was to come. It was important to me to fill the audience with people who really needed new cars, so that all the excitement would have meaning. I wanted the gift to be about the essence of sharing what you have. I prayed for that, sitting in the dark amongst my shoes and handbags. Then I walked downstairs to the studio, and my prayers were answered.

Im a country girl at heart, having grown up in rural Mississippi—where if you didnt grow it or raise it as in hogs and chickens, you didnt eat it. Helping my grandmother pull turnip greens from the garden, then sitting on the porch snapping beans and shelling peas, was a routine I took for granted.

Today my favorite day of the week in spring, summer, and fall is harvest day. We go out to the garden to gather artichokes, spinach, squash, green beans, corn, tomatoes, and lettuce, along with basketfuls of fresh herbs, onions, and garlic. The bounty of it gives my heart a thrill!

Im in awe every time By planting so little, you can reap so much. In fact, my problem is volume. I cant eat it all, but I dont want to throw away anything that Ive watched grow discarding food youve grown from seed feels like throwing away a gift. I readily share with my neighbors, and still theres always more growing.

All good food comes from the earth. And whether you get that food from a farmers market, your local grocer, or your own backyard, this I know for sure The pure joy of eating well is worth savoring.

I once sliced a fresh peach that was so sweet, so succulent, so divinely peachy that even as I was eating it I thought, There are no words to adequately describe this peach—one has to taste it to understand the true definition of peachiness. I closed my eyes, the better to enjoy the flavor. But even that wasnt enough, so I saved the last two bites to share with Stedman, to see if he affirmed my assessment of best peach ever. He took the first bite and said, Mmm, mmm, mmm … this peach reminds me of childhood. And so that small thing got bigger, as all things do when shared in a spirit of appreciation.

I still remember the first time I stepped outside my box of giving only to family and friends, and did something significant for someone I didnt know. I was a reporter in Baltimore and had covered a story about a young mother and her children, who had fallen on hard times. Ill never forget going back to their home and taking the whole family to a mall to buy winter coats. They so appreciated the gesture, and I learned how good it feels to do something unexpected for someone in need.

Since that time in the late 1970s, Ive been blessed with the ability to give truly great gifts—everything from cashmere sheets to college educations. Ive given homes. Cars. Trips around the world. The services of a wonderful nanny. But the best gift anyone can give, I believe, is the gift of themselves.

At my fiftieth-birthday luncheon, every woman in attendance wrote a note sharing what our friendship meant to her. All the notes were placed in a silver box. That box still has a treasured space on my nightstand on days when Im feeling less than joyful, Ill pull out a note and let it lift me back up.

About a year later I hosted a weekend of festivities to honor 18 magnificent bridge-building, boundary-breaking women and a few dozen of the younger women whose way they had paved. I called it the Legends Ball, and after it was over, I received thank-you letters from all the younguns in attendance. The letters were calligraphed and bound together in a book. They are among my most valued possessions. And they inspired me recently, when a friend was going through a rough time I called all of her friends and asked them to write her love notes, which I then had bound into a book.

I gave to someone else, in the same way that someone had given to me. And I know for sure thats what were here to do Keep the giving going.

The table next to me was making a lot of noise, celebrating a special occasion—five waiters singing Happy birrrrrthday, dear Marilyn… Our side of the room applauded as Marilyn blew out the single candle on the chocolate cupcake shed been presented with. Someone asked if Id take a picture with the group.

Sure, I said, and casually asked, How old is Marilyn? to no one in particular.

The whole table laughed nervously. One person said in mock outrage, I cant believe youre asking that!

Marilyn ducked her head modestly and told me, I dare not say.

I was at first amused, then taken aback. You want a picture honoring your birthday, but you dont want to say how old you are?

Well, I dont want to say it out loud. Ive been a wreck for weeks knowing this day was coming. It just makes me sick to think about it.

It makes you sick to think that youve marked another year, that every worry, every strife, every challenge, every delight, every breath every day was leading to this moment, and now you made it and youre celebrating it—with one little candle—and denying it at the same time?

Im not denying it, she said. I just dont want to be forty-three.

I gasped in mock horror. Youre forty-three? Oh my, I see why you wouldnt want anyone to know that. Everyone laughed that nervous laughter again.

We took the picture, but I didnt stop thinking about Marilyn and her friends.

I also thought about Don Miguel Ruiz, author of one of my favorite books, The Four Agreements. According to Don Miguel, Ninety-five percent of the beliefs we have stored in our minds are nothing but lies, and we suffer because we believe all these lies.

One of these lies that we believe and practice and reinforce is that getting older means getting uglier. We then judge ourselves and others, trying to hold on to the way we were.

This is why, over the years, I have made it a point to ask women how they feel about aging. Ive asked everyone from Bo Derek to Barbra Streisand.

Ali MacGraw told me, The message women my age send to terrified thirty- and forty-year-old women is that its almost over. What a gyp.

Beverly Johnson said, Why am I trying to keep this teenage body when Im not a teenager and everybody knows it? That was an epiphany for me.

And Cybill Shepherds honesty offered terrific insight I had a great fear, as I grew older, that I would not be valued anymore.

If youre blessed enough to grow older, which is how I look at aging I think often of all the angels of 9/11 who wont get there, theres so much wisdom to be gained from people who are celebrating the process with vibrancy and vigor and grace.

Ive had wonderful mentors in this regard. Maya Angelou, doing speaking tours in her mid-eighties. Quincy Jones, always off in some far-flung part of the world creating new projects. Sidney Poitier, epitomizing who and what I want to be if Im fortunate to live so long—reading everything he can get his hands on, even writing his first novel at age 85, continuously expanding his fields of knowledge.

For sure we live in a youth-obsessed culture that is constantly trying to tell us that if were not young and glowing and hot, we dont matter. But I refuse to buy into such a distorted view of reality. And I would never lie about or deny my age. To do so is to contribute to a sickness pervading our society—the sickness of wanting to be what youre not.

I know for sure that only by owning who and what you are can you step into the fullness of life. I feel sorry for anyone who buys into the myth that you can be what you once were. The way to your best life isnt denial. Its owning every moment and staking a claim to the here and now.

Youre not the same woman you were a decade ago if youre lucky, youre not the same woman you were last year. The whole point of aging, as I see it, is change. If we let them, our experiences can keep teaching us about ourselves. I celebrate that. Honor it. Hold it in reverence. And Im grateful for every age Im blessed to become.

I never foresaw doing the Oprah show for 25 years. Twelve years in, I was already thinking about bringing it to a close. I didnt want to be the girl who stayed too long at the party. I dreaded the thought of overstaying my welcome.

Then I did the movie Beloved, portraying a former slave who experiences newfound freedom. That role changed the way I looked at my work. How dare I, whod been given opportunities unimagined by my ancestors, even think of being tired enough to quit? So I renewed my contract for another four years. Then another two.

At the 20-year mark, I was almost certain that the time was finally right to call it a day. Thats when I received an e-mail from Mattie Stepanek.

Mattie was a 12-year-old boy with a rare form of muscular dystrophy who had appeared on my show to read his poetry and became an instant, dear friend. We exchanged e-mails often and talked on the phone when we could. He made me laugh. And sometimes cry. But most often he made me feel more human and present and able to appreciate even the smallest things.

Mattie suffered so much in his young life, going into and out of the hospital, yet hardly ever complained. When he spoke, I listened. And in May 2003, as I was in the throes of deciding whether to bring the show to an end, he was a singular force in changing my mind. Heres the letter he wrote me

Dear Oprah,

Hello, its me, Mattie … your guy. I am praying and hoping to go home around Memorial Day. Its not a guarantee, so I am not telling a lot of people. It seems that every time I try to go home, something else goes wrong. The doctors are not able to fix me, but they agree with me going home. And dont worry, I am not going home to die or anything like that. I am going home because they cant do anything else here, and if I heal, its because I am meant to heal, and if I dont, then my message is out there and its time for me to go to Heaven. I personally am hoping that my message still needs me to be the messenger a while longer, but thats really in Gods hands. But anyway … I am only needing blood transfusions about once a week now, so that is better. And it sounds weird, but I think its really cool that I have blood and platelets from so many people. Makes me related to the world in some way, which is a proud thing to be.

I know that you are planning to retire your show on its 20th anniversary. It is my opinion that you should wait to stop your daytime show on its 25th anniversary. Let me explain why. Twenty-five makes more sense to me, partially because I am a bit OCD and 25 is a perfect number. Its a perfect square, and symbolizes a quarter of something, not just a fifth like the number 20. Also, when I think of the number 25, especially for retiring or completion, for some reason my mind is filled with bright colors and the rejuvenation of life. I know that sounds weird, but its true. Youve already made history in so many ways, wonderful and beautiful ways, why not make history bigger by having a show with great dignity that touched and inspired so many people for a quarter of a century? Ill let you think on it. And of course its only my opinion, but I sometimes get feelings about things, and I have one about this. I think its good for the world and good for you.

I love you and you love me,

Mattie

As anyone who knows me knows, I sometimes get feelings about things, too, and my gut told me to pay attention to this angel boy who I believe was a messenger for our time.

Somehow it was clear to him, back in 2003, that I was neither emotionally nor spiritually prepared to bring that phase of my career to a close.

When I finally was ready for the next chapter, I moved forward with no regrets—only grace and gratitude. And wherever heaven is, I know for sure Mattie is there.

Every morning when I open my curtains for that first look at the day, no matter what the day looks like—raining, foggy, overcast, sunny—my heart swells with gratitude. I get another chance.

In the best of times and worst of times, I know for sure, this life is a gift. And I believe that no matter where we live or how we look or what we do for a living, when it comes to what really matters—what makes us laugh and cry, grieve and yearn, delight and rejoice—we share the same heart space. We just fill it with different things. Here are 15 of my favorites

1. Planting vegetables in my garden.

2. Making blueberry-lemon pancakes on Sunday morning for Stedman. Never fails to delight him—like hes 7 every time.

3. An off-leash romp on the front lawn with all my dogs.

4. A rainy day, a chill in the air, a blazing fire in the fireplace.

5. Picking vegetables from my garden.

6. A great book.

7. Reading in my favorite place on earth under my oak trees.

8. Cooking vegetables from my garden.

9. Sleeping till my body wants to wake up.

10. Waking up to the real twitter birds.

11. A workout so strong, my whole body breathes.

12. Eating vegetables from my garden.

13. Being still.

14. Embracing silence.

15. The daily spiritual practice of gratitude. Every day I bless my life by counting my blessings.