Let me start with a question — one that stopped me in my tracks when I thought of it:

 

What if tomorrow morning you woke up and only got to keep what you were grateful for yesterday?

 

What I mean by this is... What if the things that you weren’t consciously grateful for the day before disappeared when you woke up?

 

That’s how important gratitude is.

 

That question changed how I looked at everything — my kids, my home, my work, even the ordinary moments I used to rush past.

 

And it’s part of why I write this message every Thanksgiving.

 

Not because gratitude is some cute idea, but because it has shaped the way I live.

 

Every year, I sit down to write about gratitude, and every year I struggle a little.

 

Not because I don’t feel it — I feel it deeply — but because gratitude is one of those things everyone already knows.

 

It’s like love. Hard to explain, impossible to forget once you’ve experienced it, and unmistakable when you lose it.

 

But I want to try anyway, because gratitude has carried me through some of the hardest and most beautiful seasons of my life.

 

I’ve kept a gratitude journal for years.

 

Some nights I write a few lines before bed.

 

Other times I turn to it when I need to shift my mindset — when life feels heavy or confusing and I need to remember what’s steady in my world.

 

Like most healthy habits, I don’t always feel like doing it.

 

But the consistency has quietly changed me.

 

Gratitude has become almost instinctive.

 

Even when something goes wrong, a voice in me asks, “What can I appreciate here?”

 

It doesn’t mean I always feel grateful in the moment — but I’ve learned that choosing it is always worth it.

 

This week, I looked back over my journal from the past year. Something struck me immediately:

 

I wrote the same things over and over again.

 

My kids.

My home.

The people I work with.

My health.

Moments of clarity.

A conversation.

A lesson.

 

At first, I thought, Man, I’m repetitive.

 

But then it hit me — of course I repeat these things. They’re the things I never want to lose.

 

They’re what matter most.

 

And when I asked myself that earlier question —

 

What if I only got to keep what I was grateful for? —

 

I felt this deep wave of understanding.

 

We’re not entitled to anything.

 

Not the people in our lives.

 

Not the stability we’re used to.

 

Not even the annoyances we complain about.

 

We get them today, and if we’re lucky, tomorrow too.

 

Another thing happened when I reread those entries:

 

I found myself smiling at memories I had completely forgotten.

 

Little moments.

 

Quick wins.

 

Conversations I never would’ve remembered without writing them down.

 

It reminded me how powerful our minds are — we can step back into any moment when we choose to remember it.

 

And gratitude is one of the highest states we can enter.

 

It lifts us above fear, above stress, above scarcity.

 

It reconnects us to life.

 

Thanksgiving brings all of this into focus for me.

 

Even though, truthfully, my Thanksgivings don’t look the same anymore.

 

Six years ago, I celebrated with my ex-wife’s family — her uncle hosting, kids running around, football on, food everywhere.

 

He’s not here anymore and I miss him dearly, and his family too.

 

I’m not sharing that to be sad.

 

I’m sharing it because life changes.

 

People leave and well...die.

 

Traditions shift.

 

Circumstances move.

 

The things that feel ordinary now will one day be sacred memories.

 

So even if the holiday feels boring or predictable — the same relatives, the same stories, the same routines — give thanks for them.

 

One day you’ll look back and realize how precious the “ordinary” actually was.

 

I love gratitude because I love life.

 

I somehow know — deep in my bones — that we’re here for a short time, and if we’re here, we might as well be fully here.

 

There’s something about being alive we will absolutely miss when we’re gone.

 

So, this Thanksgiving, take one moment — just one — to push back from the table, look around, and really see the people in your life.

 

Appreciate them while they’re here.

 

They won’t be here forever.

 

And neither will you.

 

If this message about gratitude, presence, and living fully speaks to you, I want to share something I’m offering in the new year.

 

On January 1st, 2026, I’m starting a year-long coaching group — a small, committed community of people who want to live more intentionally, break old patterns, and build a life they actually love waking up to.

 

It’s not about quick fixes or motivation that fades in a week.

 

It’s about real growth.

 

Real support.

 

Real accountability.

 

And creating the kind of life you’ll be grateful for a year from now.

 

If you’ve been wanting guidance, community, or someone to walk with you as you step into a new season — this might be for you.

 

If you feel something in, you saying “I should be there” … then trust that nudge.

 

You can reply to this email/message or reach out to me directly and I’ll share the details.

 

Happy Thanksgiving.

 

Much love,

Bert