Nov 26, 2025
A note to my readers: The following story is based on a true experience, though names and identifying details have been changed to protect privacy.
As we approach Thanksgiving, our thoughts naturally turn to gratitude. We make lists of what we’re thankful for, and we focus on expressing our appreciation to others. In my work as a therapist, I often champion this practice for its profound benefits to our mental health.
But this year, I’ve been reflecting on a more challenging aspect of thankfulness, guided by an ancient philosophy of character development that emphasizes balance. It teaches that for every virtue, there is an equal and opposite virtue we must also cultivate. For the act of giving, we must also master the art of receiving.
I learned this lesson from a simple interaction.
We frequent a small, family-owned restaurant whenever I go back to my hometown. Over the years, we've gotten to know the owner. One evening, he seemed preoccupied. He approached our table and asked if he could talk about his son.
He shared a challenge his son was facing. We talked for a long time about patience and listening. I was simply a fellow traveler, sharing my own stumbles and insights. It was a simple human moment.
When the bill came, he had taken it. Scrawled across the bottom were the words, "On the house. Thank you."
My instinct was to refuse. “It's your busiest season! Please, you can't do this." I thought of his bottom line. I wanted to be the giver, not the receiver.
But he was adamant. His gratitude was his gift to me. To refuse it would have been to reject the value he placed on our conversation.
This is where that philosophy of balance rings true. It teaches that life is a constant calibration of our inner traits. If we only practice giving, we risk tipping the scales toward pride and control, unknowingly creating a hierarchy between ourselves and others. The act of receiving, therefore, is not passive; it is an active practice of humility and grace. It allows the other person to experience the full dignity of being the giver.
There's a beautiful principle often called "Recognizing the Good." We usually think of this as noticing the good in our own lives. But it also means recognizing the good in another person's desire to give. By accepting the shopkeeper’s gesture, I was finally recognizing the good in his need to express his thanks tangibly. I was honoring his journey.
From a mental health perspective, this is a critical skill for healthy relationships. It requires vulnerability. So, as we enter this season of thanks, here is a simple practice:
Pause the Reflex to Deflect. When someone thanks you, let their words land.
Validate the Giver. Offer a sincere, "It was my genuine pleasure," or "Your thanks means a great deal to me." This affirms the connection.
Complete the Circuit. Understand that accepting thanks isn't about taking credit; it's about honoring the other person's experience and completing the cycle of connection.
My struggle with the restaurant owner taught me that receiving gratitude gracefully deepens our own capacity for it. We feel its full weight and beauty from both sides.
This Thanksgiving, as we give thanks for all we have, let’s also be open to the gift of being thanked. In mastering the quiet art of receiving, we don’t just acknowledge a kind word—we balance the scales of human connection and create a more profound, reciprocal well-being.