Quotes from Maya Angelou make me think. I nod as I agree with the thought, then wonder how I might live the inspiration contained in it. Usually. With this one, the last word I worry about. She wrote, "If you must look back, do so forgivingly. If you must look forward, do so prayerfully. However, the wisest thing you can do is be present in the present...gratefully."

I know I am going against the trend here, but I am troubled by our emphasis on gratitude. My dis-ease with the call to be grateful surfaced in spring 2020 as pandemic lock-downs began. Social media abounded with calls to put aside negativity and be grateful for what we had.

It isn't that I wanted to hold on to negative thoughts but I fear that gratitude reinforces privilege.

I live in a rural neighbourhood. While people drive down our road in a terrible hurry, I have a beautiful place to walk. It isn't crowded as city streets are. Conversations with neighbours happen at an easy distance outside. I feel, however, like claiming gratitude for the space highlights the challenges for people who live in crowded places.

As lockdowns started, I was able to work from home. I earned the same salary I did before the pandemic hit. Did I appreciate that? For sure. But summoning me to be grateful reminded me of all the servers and store clerks, the receptionists and musicians who did not have work. Sure, there was a salary substitute from the federal government, but they had to figure out how to apply and if they qualified. Then, one program was phased out, and the same unemployed people had to figure out a new system.

Working from home was simple for me. We have a big house. Though we had two of our adult children living with us in the spring of 2020, we had enough room for some privacy and space for those of us who were working online. Only once did meetings overlap and require innovative thinking. Did I appreciate the space? For sure. But I felt so privileged when others were negotiating work from home and online schooling, tiny spaces and inadequate internet.

The problem with the call for gratitude is that I am supposed to be grateful for a privilege, something other people do not enjoy, not because of anything they did wrong. It feels like our culture implies that as long as I am grateful, it is fine to hold on to privilege.

You might say I'm just using the wrong word. Try being thankful. I've had trouble with thankfulness for an even longer time. "Make a list of the things you are thankful for" feels like the worst kind of acquisitiveness. It's like collecting good things. And thankfulness can be transactional--as long as I say thank you for what I'm given, it's mine to do with as I want.

I've been playing instead with the idea of appreciation. I appreciate the beauty of the water at the edge of the land where I live, but the water is its own thing. I don't own it. I kayak on it. I swim in it. I watch it.

I appreciate it.

I appreciated the willingness of my congregations to work through remote worship services and zoom meetings. Their flexibility kept me working and made the job doable. I appreciated the space I live in because the facility made online work easy. And appreciation of what I had helped me remember what others did not have, kept me checking in with how others were doing in more difficult circumstances.

Appreciation recognizes the good in what I see, what I experience. It holds the person or thing more lightly, letting them be for themselves not just for me. Appreciation helps me to recognize gift.

I know that at its best thankfulness is not acquisitive. At its best, gratitude does not flaunt privilege. But when I look at #gratitude posts on social media, I worry that they deny grief and reinforce social divisions. Maybe my word is not a solution. You can tell me the problems with appreciation. But being present in the present requires not just a positive attitude but a sense of what is missing for us and for others.

Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway