Gratitude Inspires Kindness. So Why Do We Wait?

This weekend we had an impromptu -expanded get together.

It was originally going to be us and the kids.

Then one of us suggested inviting our usual 'Christmas get together' group.

The stars aligned and everyone was available!

And while we are always extremely vocal about our gratitude for each other,

this weekend felt different.

Not because it was perfect. Not because anything extraordinary happened.

It felt different because everywhere I looked, people (even outside of our group) seemed genuinely grateful.

We started at the golf course. Everyone was happy just to have a tee time. People smiled as they passed one another. Conversations came easily. There was laughter echoing across the fairways. No one seemed rushed. Everyone simply seemed thankful to be outside, enjoying the sunshine and sharing the day.

We even met an influencer! Shout out to Natalie Fannin!

@bossladyzerofilter - on Instagram

Then came the Fourth of July.

Our house filled with the people we love. Richie and Katie were here. Justin was here. Friends from nearby and friends from out of town gathered around the table. We ate far too much, played games, laughed until our stomachs hurt, and watched the dogs chase each other (and us)around the patio.

One of my favorite moments was convincing Yeti that our swimming pool was basically a dock diving pool. She launched herself in several times like she was at one of her competitions, and every jump brought cheers and laughter.

Dessert somehow became its own celebration.

There were ice cream sandwiches made with vanilla ice cream tucked between homemade chocolate chip cookies—the most wonderfully American dessert imaginable.

There was also a gluten-free trifle layered with pound cake, creamy yogurt, Cool Whip, fresh blueberries, and strawberries. Even something as simple as dessert became another reason to smile.

As darkness was moving in, Rich and Richie sent fireworks into the sky.

But what I’ll remember most wasn’t the fireworks.

It was the feeling inside the house.

There was genuine affection.

No one seemed distracted.

No one appeared to be keeping score.

People were simply happy to be together.

Even driving around town, people waved. Neighbors chatted. Strangers smiled. There was an unusual kindness in the air, as if everyone had silently agreed that for one day, we would choose appreciation over irritation.

And it made me wonder…

Why?

Why on this day?

Why does it take a holiday, a celebration, or a milestone for gratitude to rise to the surface?

What changes?

Because the truth is, the things we celebrated this weekend are available far more often than once a year.

Every morning I walk, I find myself looking up at the sunrise and feeling grateful.

Grateful for my friend, Camille, who walks with me.

When the evening sky begins to change colors, I stop to notice the sunset.

I’m grateful for the path beneath my feet.

For my yard.

For my home.

For my family.

For my new car.

For healthy dogs running through the grass.

For ordinary conversations with people I love.

But if I’m being honest, there are plenty of days when that gratitude fades into the background.

The house becomes another thing to clean.

The yard becomes another chore.

The car becomes transportation instead of a blessing.

The ordinary quietly disguises itself as mundane.

Maybe that’s what holidays really do.

They don’t give us new blessings.

They simply remind us to notice the ones we’ve had all along.

What if we borrowed a little bit of July Fourth and carried it into an ordinary Tuesday?

What if we smiled at strangers because we could?

What if we gathered around a simple meal without waiting for an occasion?

What if we celebrated a sunset with the same enthusiasm we reserve for fireworks?

Gratitude has a funny way of spreading.

One smile invites another.

One kind word softens someone else’s day.

One thankful heart makes a room feel lighter.

This weekend reminded me that gratitude isn’t just something we feel.

It’s something we create together.

Maybe that’s worth celebrating every single day.

The weekend also made me notice something else.

On an ordinary Saturday, the mood often feels different.

People seem bored.

Frustrated.

Impatient.

Discontent.

And before I point fingers, I'll admit that I get caught up in it too. I'm not immune.

Sometimes I wonder...

Are we all simply crossing paths at the exact moment we're unhappy?

Is that all it is?

Because if I'm having an average day and I'm out in public, I still try to smile. I try to make eye contact. I hold doors open. I wave. Those tiny moments don't cost me much.

But so many people don't even seem to bother anymore.

When did that change?

Have we spent so much time behind our keyboards searching for everything that's wrong that we've forgotten how to acknowledge the people standing right in front of us?

This weekend didn't feel that way.

For one weekend, it felt like we were all on the same team.

Neighbors waved.

Strangers smiled.

People laughed together.

No one seemed interested in picking a fight.

It wasn't that everyone suddenly agreed on everything. I'm sure they didn't.

It was simply that, for a little while, everyone remembered they were sharing the same space with other human beings.

And that makes me wonder...

Why does it take celebrating America's 250th birthday to remind us of that?

Why do we wait for holidays to appreciate each other?

Why do we wait for tragedy to unite?

We've all seen it happen.

A hurricane.

A flood.

A wildfire.

A school tragedy.

A community loss.

Suddenly, political opinions disappear.

Arguments become unimportant.

Neighbors help neighbors.

Complete strangers show up with food, water, tools, or simply a hug.

The humanity was always there.

It just took something enormous to uncover it.

So maybe the better question isn't whether we're doomed.

Maybe it's this:

If we're capable of becoming our best selves during celebrations and tragedies...

what's stopping us on an ordinary Tuesday?

Does a smile really take that much energy?

Does kindness require a national holiday?

Or have we simply forgotten how powerful those tiny moments really are?

Gratitude isn’t a feeling that arrives on holidays. Maybe holidays simply give us permission to slow down long enough to notice what was already there.