A woman crosses her hands over her heart. People can practice gratitude by meditating, journaling, doing yoga and more. Photo courtesy Giulia Bertelli, Unsplash.
When I swing open the door of my apartment, I have the routine perfected: release the heaviest of sighs, abandon my bag in the threshold and dive into a breathless recounting of the day’s frustrations.
The procedure is painfully predictable, yet it never grows tiresome for my roommate and I to indulge each other in the familiar litany of complaints. The lineup often looks something like the following: I slept through my alarms, got cold-called in class, have back-to-back co-op interviews scheduled and, to top it all o…
A woman crosses her hands over her heart. People can practice gratitude by meditating, journaling, doing yoga and more. Photo courtesy Giulia Bertelli, Unsplash.
When I swing open the door of my apartment, I have the routine perfected: release the heaviest of sighs, abandon my bag in the threshold and dive into a breathless recounting of the day’s frustrations.
The procedure is painfully predictable, yet it never grows tiresome for my roommate and I to indulge each other in the familiar litany of complaints. The lineup often looks something like the following: I slept through my alarms, got cold-called in class, have back-to-back co-op interviews scheduled and, to top it all off, the heat in our apartment is still inoperable.
As the semester barreled toward its close and students tackled the last wave of deadlines, the monotony of the daily class-clubs-work ritual seemed to drag like a ball of steel tethered to an ankle.
With so much weighing us down, it is easy to lose sight of the gift of having tasks and opportunities to juggle in the first place. We spend endless hours consumed by what we have to do rather than appreciating that we get the chance to do it at all.
Gratitude has devolved into a lost art, an obsolete practice buried beneath an endless catalog of complaints that we deem more deserving of attention. The expectation of productivity found on college campuses breeds a particularly insidious form of gratitude bankruptcy, as students render thankfulness almost laughably out-of-step with the pace of our lives.
Our culture glorifies hustle and rewards overachievement. At Northeastern, that pressure is amplified, leaving many of us stretched between competing versions of ourselves: the student, who should be polishing next week’s presentation, and the young professional, who should be securing a co-op that promises the perfect résumé line and the right network. Taken alongside the comparison trap that is your LinkedIn feed, it’s easy to feel like you’ve come up short in one way or another.
Each semester, the unaccomplished items on my to-do list are the last thoughts swirling in my head before bed and the first to hit me when I wake up. Only after I begin to pack my belongings for break, when the noise of exam season has quieted and there is an unburdened moment free of responsibility, do I step back and recognize what an impressive feat it is to conquer another stretch of the college experience.
Still, this sense of gratitude arrives late, like an overdue reminder, reserved only for the aftermath and never the process.
A reframed mindset matters most in the thick of it, to serve as an anchor grounding me in what I am already achieving instead of everything I fear I am neglecting. Oftentimes, admitting that I am struggling can feel just as defeating as the struggle itself; stress is easily mistaken for weakness.
When I pause long enough to recognize that I’ve survived every week that felt unbearable, I can see resilience where I once saw failure. Gratitude allows us to place our strain against a new backdrop, reframing the stress we all carry not as a sign of inadequacy, but evidence that we are in motion, inching toward a better future. It is a quiet way of choosing presence and perspective over panic.
Practicing thankfulness in real time means permitting yourself to acknowledge small strides before they amount to an accomplishment. While gratitude is often understood as merely a feeling, it is also a skill that can be developed through intention and practice. This can look small and ordinary: savoring the completion of an assignment you dreaded, an impromptu hangout squeezed into a busy day or simply the warmth of the sun on your face as you walk to class.
These moments, when noticed, create pockets of relief in a calendar otherwise dominated by deadlines. They become a buffer against burnout by nudging us to take stock of what is working. Gratitude does not eliminate stress but softens its edges. Small celebrations empower us with the momentum to move through struggle without being swallowed by it. If we allow ourselves to recognize and revel in these moments as they happen, the semester may feel more than just survivable.
Research continues to affirm the tangible, enduring power of gratitude, from boosted motivation to improved sleep quality—benefits that any overworked college student would happily welcome. But beyond the science, practicing thankfulness also offers something far more potent: a form of resistance in times of broader societal uncertainty. When it is tempting to succumb to feelings of powerlessness as cultural and political tides change, gratitude uncovers the patches of light that motivate our fight.
Gratitude is inextricable from hope, forming the meaningful precursor to action. By redirecting our attention to the slivers of good that still surround us, we create stamina, fueled by our faith in the potential for progress. Gratitude grounds us in what remains true, valuable and cherished — a reminder of all that is worth protection and the work that lies ahead to preserve it.
In a climate of division, choosing gratitude is an act of strength and courage, replacing mindsets of scarcity with those of abundance. We must give thanks to our world before we can change it. We must be grateful for the love around us before we can spread it.
Whether expressed through a carefully maintained gratitude journal, daily affirmations or a 10-second pause to appreciate that you’re still showing up when it’s tough, gratitude celebrates the minute efforts that lay the bricks of a bridge toward something meaningful.
In a college environment where we are constantly encouraged to look ahead, remembering to cast your gaze in the rearview is just as important. After all, what a privilege it is to feel exhaustion in the pursuit of the life of your dreams.
Taylor Zinnie is a third-year criminal justice and psychology combined major. She can be reached at [email protected].
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About the Contributor

Taylor Zinnie is a third-year criminal justice and psychology major with a minor in journalism. As The News’ pop culture columnist, she embeds social commentary throughout her coverage of all things media and entertainment. You can follow her on Instagram @taylorzinnie.