Think it through
Begin where you are
To better appreciate what you have, a key task is to rethink the powerful human tendency that the philosopher Daniel Milo, in his book Good Enough (2019), calls ‘elsewhereism’. Elsewhereism is the urge to always seek a better elsewhere – whether that’s a different job, partner or continent. It’s what drives progress. But it can also lead to unhappiness. If someone is always looking for a better elsewhere, they are never appreciating the qualities of the here-and-now.
Elsewhereism is, I think, based on a specific kind of forgetfulness: that is, forgetting that even in the new, better elsewhere, there will still be problems. You will still suffer from accidents, from unrequited love, from natural disasters, from new psychological foibles that will simply emerge. That’s just part of our human condition. To better appreciate what you have isn’t to give up on an elsewhere. It’s to understand that there is no elsewhere that is beyond some degree of difficulty, and that, if you’re not appreciative of what you have now, you never will be.
The first step then is simply to begin where you are and acknowledge that parts of your psyche and the society you live in are good. No matter how bad a person’s situation is, each of us has at least some positive attributes, traits and capacities, and humans today are the inheritors of immense cultural and technological progress.
Identify what you have
In the song ‘Ain’t Got No, I Got Life’ (1968), Nina Simone sings about not having any of the things that people usually consider signs of material or personal success – not just home and money, but also love, culture and religion. Then she pauses and asks: if I don’t have any of these things, what do I still have? Well, she has her body, and her life, and her freedom. Not bad.
This song also shows us that we have something else: a rich tradition of people appreciating what they have in spite of what they lack, or what has been taken away from them. Perhaps the best place to start appreciating specific things that you have is to go through exactly the process that Simone does: first, allow yourself to lament the things that you lack in your life. (It’s worth remembering that the ability to grieve and mourn is, after all, something that you do have.) You can even make a list of all that is lacking. Acknowledging imperfection is an important part of appreciating what you have.
Then, follow this right up with a list of everything you do have. You might start in the same place that Simone does – listing your body parts, life, whatever freedom you have – but don’t stop there. Keep thinking through what you have. Even Simone skips over quite a bit in this song: not only her own musical talent, but also the very existence of music. A person has much more than they personally possess.
So as not to get overwhelmed, move out in concentric circles. Start with your body and all that works well in it. And then move on to your attributes, talents and skills. Then you can consider material possessions. You need not list everything, but maybe write down some highlights, some objects that are especially important to you, even if it’s just the shirt on your back. Consider next any relationships you have and other people you have in your life. You could do this not only with friends or family, but also acquaintances, as well as the people you (depending on your own job or life) may never see who help the world around you keep moving (eg, sanitation workers, fruit and vegetable pickers, dockworkers, and on and on).
Then keep moving further outward. Consider the social, political, cultural or religious traditions you’ve inherited. These can include so many things: values such as freedom and equality, beliefs in human interdependence and the sacredness of life, art forms such as music or fiction, practical institutions like fire departments and hospitals, and all the public infrastructure around you. Maybe you’re even reading this at a public library. And just think of all the roads and sidewalks you have access to. If, like me, you are concerned about the inequalities in material possessions and social status in the world, you might pause to remember that you have social movements and political power that can help to transform these unfair conditions (as difficult and frustrating as the process may be).
Finally, move out once more into the natural world and all that the plants and animals and cycles of nature provide. You could think about the microorganisms in your stomach that make digestion possible, the electricity coursing through your brain to make thinking possible, the evolutionary inheritance that has given humans opposable thumbs and an upright posture. You don’t even have to stop there: don’t forget that you live in a vast cosmos whose history of explosions and condensations made life itself possible.
Reflect on what you have
Once you have your list, you can begin to reflect on different aspects of it. One useful exercise is to write some brief notes or journal entries about something on your list (say, a value that you’ve inherited, or a self-taught skill, or a person you value), which can help you to explore and expand for yourself why you appreciate that thing or person. This might also help make the significance of relatively abstract things feel more concrete. If you’re more of a talker than a writer, you could do this exercise by discussing it with a friend or family member.
This process of listing, followed up by writing or conversing, is something that you can do once or periodically. You could begin to integrate it into your regular activities as well, taking time to list and reflect on why you appreciate additional things that you might not have really noticed before.
Comparing levels of appreciation can be useful, too. You might ask yourself before a purchase, for example, if you would more greatly appreciate having a particular object, or instead giving the money to a cause or a friend in need. In this way, you can better understand that appreciating what you have is only on one level about material goods, and that who you are as a person is bound up with many circles of appreciation.
On that point, I need to pause and address the elephant in the room of appreciation: what if you don’t have the basic possessions you need – enough food, shelter, clothing, medicine? And what if you are socially isolated and lack the relationships you also need? These are the kinds of questions that always led me to think appreciation was a problematic concept. And, again, I still think it can be if it doesn’t consider the whole range of human situations. It is strange to write about appreciating what ‘you’ have when you might be someone who truly does not have enough.
However, I’ve also learned from conversations I’ve had with people in such difficult situations over the years that this can be a condescending way to think about appreciation. People lacking basic goods can still have plenty to appreciate, from successes they’ve had in keeping themselves healthy and positive, to the community of others with whom they share limited resources, to the kindnesses of strangers who stop to talk with them.
None of that ends the absurdity of a wealthy world full of impoverished people, or a thickly populated world full of lonely people. Appreciating what you do have does not mean ignoring that too many people – perhaps even you – lack what they need. But, again, one of the goals here is to let appreciation give us the energy to try to understand and transform this situation.
Keep the deeper meaning of appreciation in sight
There is a superficial meaning of ‘appreciating what you have’, which is that, when you are at a good point in your life and have what you want, you feel thankful for your success. Appreciating what you have at such moments is certainly not meaningless – especially if it stops you from desiring more and more – but it doesn’t exactly take a how-to guide to teach someone to do it.
The deeper meaning of appreciation comes when you are able to acknowledge all that is good around you even while recognising all that is bad. This means appreciating what you have, not because you have everything that you need or want, nor because the world is how you think it should be. Rather, you do so because you have learned to appreciate the world as it is, with all that is flawed about it, without giving up hope in the possibility that you can still make it better. James Baldwin put it well when he wrote that we live between the demands of acceptance and the demands of justice, and described the seemingly contradictory task of accepting life as it is, ‘totally without rancour’, without concluding that the injustices we face are ineradicable. It is not easy to live with such competing demands. But to do so is the deeper meaning of appreciating what you have.
While there are limits to what can be appreciated, it is still important to appreciate that we have some agreement about, and some means for ending, the unnecessary ravages of things like poverty and violence, if only we can gather the political clarity and will to do so. One important part of this process is not letting appreciation fall into complacency. It is good to appreciate, for example, that humans now have longer life expectancies than in the past and that we have the technical capacity to feed everyone alive. Those are amazing accomplishments. But sometimes it’s suggested that such progress means the world’s institutions are basically good and progress is inevitable. In a world where billions of people still live in poverty, this is over-appreciation for the progress we’ve made.
The deeper meaning of appreciation cuts both ways. Just as we should appreciate things in spite of difficulty, so we should appreciate difficulty in spite of progress. It’s this balance that makes for a productive version of ‘elsewhereism’: seeking a better place, collectively, not because we fail to appreciate where we are, but because we know that the good of our time and place is still not enough.
Allow yourself to appreciate imperfection
The next step on our journey into appreciation is to understand why, no matter how appreciative you are, and no matter how much luck you might have, your life will never be perfect. There are many reasons for this, and they include obvious things like illness, natural disasters and accidents. But even if medical science and social systems advanced to the point where no one had to worry about these things anymore, and everyone’s lives were full of wonderful delights, life would still be imperfect. Even delights will lose potency. For example, what was once the best food in the world will come to taste like average food if it is average food, because it is simply all there is. More importantly, no matter how long you live or how many accidents you avoid, you can’t make someone who doesn’t love you fall in love with you, and you can’t make your parents or siblings or friends pay more attention to you, or go places or do things with you if they’re not interested. (At the very least, you’ll have to compromise and participate in something that bores or disinterests you.)
These basic facts underscore what philosophers have been telling us for centuries. Siddhartha Gautama made the point more than 2,500 years ago that even pleasure is suffering. Why? Because we know that it will end. A couple of centuries later, Aristotle pointed out that part of what makes something pleasurable is that it activates the fullness of the mind. But it does this only in the beginning. Once it becomes routine, it loses its power. The Stoics built their whole philosophy out of a recognition of life’s imperfections and instructions for how to live well through these difficulties.
While this may all seem like a millennia-long indictment of the possibility of appreciating life, I think that quite the opposite is true. As frustrating as imperfection might be, even the fact of its existence is something that we can come to appreciate.
The contemporary philosopher Ruth Chang makes an excellent point about this in ‘Hard Choices’ (2017), where she argues that not all choices are between things that are better or worse than each other. Some choices, she says, are ‘on a par’, meaning that each is better and worse in different ways. If you are deciding between two universities to attend, for example, you might find that one is better socially while the other is better academically, and there is no way to compare the two. This situation is a good thing if you know what to do with it, Chang says. When you find yourself in an on-par situation, you get to step back and ask yourself what your values are. For instance: does socialising or studying matter more to you? Or is there a third college out there that has a more equal ratio of each because they both matter a lot to you? Whatever you decide, having to grapple with a hard choice should teach you something about who you are and what you value.
One example from my own life came when I had to choose between two jobs. One was a more long-term offer in a location that would have taken me away from friends and family, while the other was more precarious but allowed me to be near my community. I chose the latter because I decided that, at that moment in time, community mattered more than stability. That choice had consequences once the job ended, and I found myself unemployed for some months. At times I wondered if I had made the right choice. But by recalling that my decision was not just about the future, but also about the kind of person I wanted to be, I was able to better appreciate the time I’d spent at the job and how my connections to people I loved had grown in that time. It was through the imperfection of the options, the fact that neither was perfect, that I learned something about what mattered to me.
The benefits of imperfection go beyond this. Because even though, in a perfect world, people might never suffer, we also wouldn’t have much pleasure. Building on Gautama and Aristotle, we can see that the reverse of their point is also true: if we tire of things and they lose their pleasure, then it is also the case that a thing can be pleasurable only because it will be new and exciting (for a while). It is the eventual loss of newness that makes it possible for something else new to come along.
There are also interpersonal benefits to appreciating imperfection. Because we are all imperfect in some ways, none of us can claim much superiority over others. If you recognise your own imperfections and learn to forgive them in other people, you can be humbler, more open to others, and even help build a more democratic and equal society (if somebody were perfect, they would logically have more power than the rest of us, so it’s a good thing that no one is perfect). By appreciating our own imperfections, we come to see that others’ imperfections are not irreparable flaws, but aspects of what makes them equal and meaningful members of our communities.
It is worth keeping imperfection in mind as you continue on your path toward greater appreciation. None of us are going to follow that path perfectly, either, just by snapping our fingers and saying we will appreciate things more. It requires doing the work to take stock of what you have (and don’t have), adjusting your attitudes and frameworks, and continually using your appreciation as a resource to help you improve the world. Imperfection is not an excuse to do worse, but a reminder to be gentle with yourself as you seek to improve.