The Power of Gratitude: Changing Mindset and Self-Support

Author: Dmytro Telushko From the book: "Steps of Gratitude" Diary (Part 1: Gratitude)

At a baking class, Olena took out her first loaf and immediately saw how it differed from the tutor’s example: it had risen unevenly. “I cannot even do this,” she thought. “I am brilliant at everything” would have sounded alien at that moment. A closer description was: “This loaf turned out differently from what I wanted. I can ask what to check next time.”

There can be more to notice in an attempt than the difference from a model: curiosity, the decision to try, help from a tutor, your own taste. Gratitude makes room for those details. An imperfect result can be interesting in its own right and reveal something you were not looking for. The fictional stories here offer one way to look more closely at experience.

An uneven loaf can smell so good that everybody gathers at the table. An unplanned conversation can matter more than the words prepared in advance. Something we make for the first time carries a trace of our involvement, even when it is far from the model. When attention looks beyond the flaw, there is room to notice taste, warmth, an unexpected shape or a new idea.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa is memorable precisely for its tilt. Its image reminds us that the unusual and imperfect can be what makes us stop and look. We can first allow surprise and discover something valuable, then check what needs repair. An engineering error still raises questions of safety; an interesting story does not remove them. Everyday meaning can likewise sit alongside responsibility, without requiring us to call every mistake useful.

Olena can cut the bread, taste it and ask why it rose that way. She may enjoy the flavour and want to bake again. One attempt can then offer several things: pleasure, a question for the tutor and an idea of what to check next time. A result need not be perfect to contain something worth noticing.

A short supportive sentence can bring an available action to mind when a setback occupies all your attention: “I can try a different way” or “There is something I can learn.” It matters to find words you recognise yourself in. Familiar encouragement may help one person; a calm account of what they have already done may help another. This is a small technique for a particular moment, rather than a rule everyone has to follow.

In a study by Joanne Wood and colleagues, repeating a positive self-statement did not have the same effect for everyone: participants with low self-esteem could feel worse under the experimental conditions. This is not a ban on supportive language. It is a reason not to promise that one method will benefit every person.

We are discussing the repetition of phrases here. This differs from research exercises called self-affirmation in which people reflect on personally important values. Similar names do not make all these practices interchangeable.

You might start with a recurring thought: “I always ruin everything.” Then describe the event: “I misjudged the time and missed the deadline.” This does not excuse the delay. It gives you a particular problem to discuss rather than a verdict on your entire character.

The next sentence can acknowledge both the difficulty and a possible action: “I am upset that I did not finish. I can tell them about the delay and agree on a new deadline.” Sometimes “This is difficult; I can ask for help” is enough. Plausibility for the individual matters more than impressive language.

There is no need to keep repeating a sentence until the correct feeling finally arrives. After one attempt, notice what happened: is the next action clearer, has the internal argument become louder, do you want different words? If the wording irritates you, keeping only a factual description is an option.

I imagined publishing a book, and now it exists. I imagined a car and a home, saved and displayed pictures of what I wanted, and in time these things became part of my life. Now I imagine a network of MriyaRun locations, and we are gradually moving towards that. For me, these images help hold a direction when the whole route is not yet visible.

At first there may be only one picture: a book in your hands, somewhere you want to live, a space where people come to discover our tools. Then questions begin to appear. What matters to me in this image? What is already available, what is missing and who do I need to speak to? Actions start to connect the image with today. Little by little, you join one point to another and see more than you could in the first dream.

I find it interesting to watch a wish take a more definite shape: first you imagine, then clarify, try something and notice what becomes possible. The picture helps me return to that conversation with myself. In my experience it connects with actions and circumstances; it is one technique to try, without expecting the same outcome for everybody.

On a long journey, an image of the outcome can remind you why you are continuing. Mentally rehearsing the next action helps you examine the process: when will I begin, what will I need, where might I stop and who can I ask? For a book, one point might be working on a chapter. For a future MriyaRun location, it might be a conversation about who it would serve and how. These are possible steps, not a claim that they have already happened.

Mykola is about to propose an idea at a residents’ meeting for the first time. Imagining himself speaking calmly may be pleasant, but it does not tell him how his neighbours will respond. He can prepare two sentences, check the figures and decide what to say if someone asks a question he cannot yet answer.

In a study by Lien Pham and Shelley Taylor, students imagined preparing for an exam or receiving a desired grade. Imagining the process helped preparation; the authors linked the performance effect to planning and reduced anxiety. This concerns a particular academic task, not proof that visualisation delivers any life outcome.

There is room to consider obstacles too. What currently stands between me and the next step: time, money, missing knowledge or another person’s decision? What can I change, and what do I need to work around for now? Checking this gradually brings the image from fantasy into actual conditions. Sometimes the timing, method or goal itself changes as a result.

The outcome does not have to reproduce precisely what you once imagined. You might want a home and gradually understand what matters about it: quiet, room for people close to you, somewhere to work. You might dream of a network of spaces and discover a different way of meeting people along the way. A changing picture does not always mean abandoning your wish; sometimes you understand more clearly what you were looking for.

To keep a dream from remaining only a dream, you can write one reachable point on the route beside the image. What will I try, when will I return to this question and what observable sign would count as movement? After the attempt, look at what happened, what you missed and whether a different step is needed. Not every day brings visible progress. You can pause, reconsider or continue with a clearer sense of direction.

In the Steps of Gratitude workbook, or an ordinary notebook, write down one self-critical sentence. Beside it, describe the incident so that another person could understand what happened. Separately note your effort, any support you received and consequences that still need attention. Then choose one plausible sentence and one manageable next action.

Before writing, you might slow down, notice your feet on the floor and look around. If it feels pleasant, place a hand on your chest and say your chosen words. Ordinary writing without touch or special breathing works as a format too. Choose what helps you remain attentive to yourself; if tension increases, change the exercise or take a break.

After writing, look at what you noticed: unexpected value in an attempt, support from somebody else, a wish of your own or an available next action. Sometimes that is enough for a little movement. A difficult incident can be revisited later, with support and at your own pace. Gratitude leaves room both for a welcome discovery and for whatever still needs to change.

The compact gratitude journal offers a place for a short account of the day: what surprised you, who helped and what you noticed in the ordinary or imperfect. It suits starting with a few lines and gradually recognising which events matter to you.

The Steps of Gratitude workbook offers more room for writing and reflection. Beside an image of what you want, you can record observations, the value of what you have already done and your next step. It is a way of returning to experience and adding to the picture as you go; an ordinary notebook is also a place to begin.

The workbook also has a hardcover edition: 204 pages in three successive parts, Gratitude, Acceptance through Gratitude and Self-Esteem through Gratitude. These are actual photographs of that Ukrainian-language edition from its product page. The spread on gratitude towards yourself shows how the topic continues in the book; you can choose an incident for your own entry as you read.