There are many frequencies on The AIM Program to help induce “perpetual gratitude.” There can never be too many. Let me tell you why.

Living in gratitude is not as easy as it sounds. For me, it's easy to be grateful… for a kiss (or more), for a pizza, a pat on the back, or even a kick in the butt. The problem is what I call “the thanksgiving enigma,” which is this: one may give thanks for a turkey and still be one. My experience with living in gratitude is not related to passing fancies or momentary pleasures, not that I have any objection to either of the above. Rather, it is a response to perceiving that you have found your purpose in life and, furthermore, it is a purpose that connects you to everything and everyone in the universe.

Does this example work for you? To say, “Thanks, honey, that was great!” may be honest, sincere, and heartfelt; however, experience teaches us that it is temporary… more or less, as the case may be. Finding a soul mate with whom you can share your life is closer to “living in gratitude.” I wonder, what would it be like to feel that way about everything and everyone all the time.

There would be no way to separate “ourselves” from our compassion or from our gratitude. It would be the point at which life is not momentary, but eternal. Fear, doubt, guilt, shame… would cease to limit you because when you know what you were born to serve you live fulfilling that destiny. There is nothing to separate you from all of life. There is no ego.

It is the individual gifts we receive for which we express our thanks. It is the service of life that allows us to live in gratitude. Interesting, isn't it? The source of our deepest gratitude is our ability to spend life giving. The service we give to life becomes our greatest blessing.

There are many who both aspire and strive to live within that state of blessing. Those few who succeed forever beckon us to follow them. Eventually and inevitably, we shall join them on that path to consciousness.

That leads to the next question: are we just ahead or just behind the hundredth monkey?

In Love and Light,

Stephen Lewis