Winter arrived yesterday with the first snow of the season. Snow is such a powerfully visual reflection of the changing season. Stark white flakes of frozen precipitation, accumulating in a blanket covering everything, while drawing us into the physical reality of such cold that we must layer clothing to protect ourselves. Meanwhile, the wind – is that the North Wind? – marks the change with forceful gusts moving upon doors and branches and wind-chimes, swirling the snow up and down and across the horizon. Winter’s change is seen on the ground, heard in the air, and felt in our bones, as it presses upon us, reminding us of the inevitability of the seasons and our invitation to assent to their demands.

Today marks the beginning of Advent, the season of waiting as we move toward Christmas. In the Catholic tradition, we situate ourselves ad orientem, toward the east, watching for the rising of the sun, a symbol for the birth of Christ, who’s arrival we anticipate with great joy. Today we set our face toward Christmas, settling into a new season and waiting expectantly for the changes that mark the end of this year and the beginning of the next. Ready or not, here they come.

Sitting in our front room a few days ago, I glanced out the window into the dark of our cul-de-sac and noticed something moving. I believe it was a coyote but I couldn’t really see him directly. I sensed his movement from the corner of my eye, but It was more like an absence in the space he occupied, a blank outline in the shadows that was different than the yards, houses, and bushes, in the background. It reminded me of certain stars that evade my vision when I look directly at them but appear in my peripheral vision.

Waking on Thanksgiving morning, I found myself reflecting on gratitude…and ingratitude. Gratitude is a feeling; one feels grateful for X or Y. With a bit of focus, I can look around and see the blessings of my life. With intention I can appreciate the people who are such gifts or perhaps the good things that make life enjoyable. Gratitude is a presence – an awareness of a good thing.

Ingratitude is an absence. Like those stars that we cannot see when we look directly at them but somehow we get a glimpse from the corner of our eye. Are they really there? Is that light flickering or more of a place that is less dark? Ingratitude can be subtle – it’s not with intention or effort, it comes upon us unseen, unknown. It doesn’t announce itself like hunger or pain, it quietly twists and warps, wrapping us in the wet blanket of dissatisfaction, frustration, impatience, and self-regard.

Ingratitude moves in the dark, sometimes hiding behind the mask of justice or righteousness. With the right glimpse, it might reveal resentment but it disappears when we look directly at it, slyly slipping away. With some introspection or outside guidance, we might be blessed with some clarity and begin to see our pride and self-righteousness for what it really is: an imposter. Even then, ingratitude continues to hide.

Ingratitude fuels unrest, unease, and discontent, but we often miss it because it lives in the blank space of what isn’t rather than what is. It is the negative that must be held to the light to be seen. And when we see…what an ugliness is revealed. Though it may be hard to see one’s own ingratitude, it is very easy to see it in others. In the other, ingratitude the thing becomes the ungrateful person. Obvious and unattractive. We experience ingratitude and reveal it to others, but it is we who act ungrateful, mostly unseen and unintended. Ingratitude is passive, a corruption of peace and joy.

How do we see it in ourselves? Where there is smoke, there is fire. Look more closely at the moments of unhappiness and anger. Reconsider the annoyances that plague you or feelings of rejection or bitterness. Reflect on people who are unforgivable or those for whom you feel contempt. Take a breath and peer into to the dark places of envy. Do you see it? That shadow moving just beyond your sight, first glimpsed from the corner of your eye? That may be ingratitude haunting your steps.

Gratitude is active and consoling. Sometimes it’s easy – some people and moments make it so because they’re attached to the consolations that feel good. However, to fight ingratitude, we have to dig deeper. We need to go back to the pure moments before expectations and comfort crept into our life. We must return to the firm ground of humility, the place we lived before we believed we deserved anything. Deeper gratitude must be built by revisiting the many moments, people, and things that brought joy, peace, comfort, or safety to your life. Those things which appeared for no reason, unearned and freely given. They were not purchased and were not a quid pro quo. They were gift. Pure and simple gift.

We tend to forget gifts. The dopamine spike of the moment fades and we move on to the next thing. Ours is a world of rising expectations and there are many sources of consolation, the jolt that gives momentary happiness. But like all virtues, gratitude must be cultivated and we must frequently return to the roots where all was new and unearned. Active gratitude chases ingratitude’s passivity away. We have to choose it regularly.

On this particular day, I went back to the beginning, trying to remember my first moments of gratitude. I quickly found myself awash in memories, almost all of which were of people. The blessings of my life flashed across my mind and with them came a wave of emotions carrying me away. Time passed without notice and I lingered among the faces and moments. Ingratitude cannot survive long in such a place and its shadows quickly retreated before the beauty of gifts unearned, moments lost, and people who make life worth living.

Like the stars we glimpsed in our periphery or the blank absence of the coyote in the dark shadows, once we are aware of our ingratitude, we know where to look and how it is revealed. In this way, ingratitude is a choice – we must choose not to see it. We must choose not to resist it. We must choose to be ungrateful in the face of more blessings than we deserve. There is a moment when we cannot see the absence of gratitude, but awareness is also a gift and once we have it, we must discipline ourselves to look for the signs of ingratitude, the great absence that steals peace and joy and hopefulness.

Wherever you find yourself this season, orient yourself toward the east and the rising sun of gratitude. Set your face toward gratitude and the beautiful consolation it promises for your life. For in continually returning to true gratitude, we can weather all winds of change and the inevitable struggles, while living in the hopeful appreciation of gifts unearned and those yet to come.