Gratitude Both Ways

Rejecting Praise is to Reject the Praiser

“Your ripples keep on rippling.”

I hear iterations of this a lot from clients of my Haven Writing Retreats. The concept brings a smile to my lips but before it can go too deep and potentially lodge in my ego, I say a quick, “It’s not about me. It’s about the program. The people who come. And of course, Montana.” I hear it from readers of my books too. My response: “It’s not about me. It’s about the book. It holds its own medicine. It’s between the book and the reader.” I think I’m being polite. Selfless. Even self-effacing. But it’s actually quite the opposite. I see it in people’s faces. They gave me a gift. I gave it back. And I’m realizing that I need to work on my relationship with gratitude. Gratitude that is shined upon me, that is. I don’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings in this way. I’m doing well in the gratitude for others and for life itself department. It’s the receiving of it that stumps me.

In other words, when I’m thanked or complimented, all-too-often I don’t really take people’s kindness in. I don’t honor it. It’s not that I am not grateful. But too many things eclipse my gratitude: I feel embarrassed. Or uncomfortable. Or I don’t believe their words. Or I don’t believe I’m worthy of their words. Or any number of things I’ve been taught, that most of us have been taught, since the first time someone said, “That’s a great painting! I love it!” And your five year old self said, “I know! ME TOO!” And somehow…you got into trouble.

The truth is that it takes energy to give a compliment or to thank someone or to honor their contribution to the world.

And a negation of that kind gesture doesn’t feel good to the person who offered it. To politely push it away or sweep it aside feels bad to the giver. We’ve all shown people kindness and been met with some sort of rejection of it. We walk away feeling like we’ve done something wrong, but don’t quite know what. It’s disorienting. Unsettling. The person doesn’t have to jump up and down and wait for a medal to be placed around their neck. But a simple smile of recognition would do.

The truth is, most of us don’t know how to receive praise, never mind bask in it. I was raised not to show off nor be a braggart. I was told, actually, that it leads to pride and pride, well…is a major no no. Of the Hades sort. So my reaction to praise starting when I was quite young, was and is to deflect it. Praise hits a sort of steel in me and bounces off it. And that doesn’t feel good to the giver. You know exactly what I’m talking about—that feeling you get when you take the time to thank someone for something, truly thank them, and they poo poo it with a phrase like, “Aren’t you nice to say so.” I bet you feel robbed of something, don’t you?

If you really take a moment to think about it, and it’s an important thing to think about…when you are grateful for someone and something they’ve done and you make the effort to thank them…and they don’t receive your gratitude, it’s actually a way of them showing you disrespect. A way of taking something from you. Taking what? The feeling of being met in your self-expression, in this case your gratitude. It’s a lonely feeling having your gratitude deflected, as if it’s a gnat that has been shooed away. It hurts.

Most everybody who has shooed away a compliment or a form of gratitude doesn’t mean to hurt the giver.

It’s learned behavior. Going back to that five year old and their delight over their painting, as adults, we feel that if we said “ME TOO” we’d be considered complete jerks. So where’s the happy middle place between: I agree! I love my writing retreats too! I love my books too! and an exploding, pride-ful, Hades-worthy ego? I think it has to do with learning how to say “thank you” or “you’re welcome” or “I’m glad the thing I created landed in your heart. Thank you for letting me know,” and really meaning it. Really meaning it. Both in honor of what you’ve created. But maybe even more so, in honor of the praiser. Sort of the opposite of the adage “Forgiveness is for the forgiver.” It feels good to see a praiser being honored for their praise. And with some work, humble but honest work, it can feel good to the praised. Human kindness both ways.

I’ve created a lot of things lately and so I’ve been practicing this a lot lately. When I can get over myself and my early childhood messaging, from generational imprinting, institutions, and society…and allow myself to receive praise...it feels good! Counter-intuitively. But judging by the smiles on people’s faces when I say an earnest “Thank you,” I feel like it has been a successful exercise and practice. Gratitude both ways: a value that I treasure. Not Hades-worthy. The other direction, in fact.

It's ironic that I have this gratitude tick, especially since I teach people how to find their true self-expression as a profession.

Especially since I teach myself how to find my true self-expression as a profession. So why on earth do I deflect people’s gratitude? It’s unkind, irresponsible, and frankly, reckless.

Something needed to shift. So after being given a lot of gratitude on my recent cross-country six-week book tour for my new release The Wild Why: Stories and Teachings to Uncover your Wonder, followed by leading two back-to-back writing retreats…I decided to take off the shield and see what would happen. I mean…am I really so scared that my ego is going to explode if I receive people’s thanks? I have found that even when I try to feed my ego as a writer, the world won’t let me. Something always happens, and it’s usually something hysterical, like:

· Taking my first phone call from a literary hero of mine in the middle of my morning ablutions, pajamas to my ankles, thanks to my eager seven year old who really liked to answer the phone no matter what I was doing…

· Going into an auditorium at a major women’s conference in lieu of getting hair and make-up, to test my tech, 20 minutes prior to my speech to 2,000 women…just in case, only to find no seating, no tech person, no mic, and no lighting…

· Getting my hair and make-up done on the set of Good Morning America and having the make-up artist say to the hair designer, “Who’s on the show today?” to which he replied, “No one I care about.” Excuse me? I’m pretty sure I’m sitting right here, two inches from your straightening iron and mascara wand!

And on and on.

What’s so wrong with feeling good about how we show up in the world?

I mean, I’m 58. 59 in a month. I’m old enough to know that I’m good at some things. And it’s okay to feel proud about that. I’m also old enough to know what I’m not good at. And to forgive myself for that. I’m bad at numbers. Really bad at numbers. But I can help you structure a writing project, short form or long form. I’m really good at structuring people’s writing, and my own. I’ve worked with some of the top editors in the industry and they’ve told me as much. I’ve helped dozens of writers structure, write, finish, and publish books. The other day I put them all in a stack and held each one in my hands and smiled and wept and felt full of joy for each one of their authors. Out of the corner of my eye I looked at the boxes on my shelf, full of my unpublished manuscripts and felt that old, cloying, sting of shame that they’ll likely never be read. Exercises in learning. I only have three published books out there and many many unpublished ones. So does that mean I can feel pride for my authors? But not pride for myself? Is pride the opposite of shame? I’m good with shame. Been flexing that muscle all my life. But pride? Is pride what happens when we accept gratitude? And is pride a bad thing? I mean…is it really a bad thing to feel proud of how your life has added up? Or of your accomplishments? Or just one thing that you did or created that helped someone?

I suppose pride gone amuck isn’t a good thing. Amuck pride starts wars between friends, neighbors, and countries. But simple, honest pride? What’s wrong with that? Just writing that question makes me squirm. And if you go back to my original premise in this essay, that it feels good to give someone a compliment or thank them for something and have them receive it…then perhaps it’s a worthy experiment. Think of what it is to have a parent say, “I’m proud of you, child.” Are we supposed to look up into their eyes and say, “I’m sorry but I cannot accept that from you. It makes me bad.” Can you imagine how the parent would feel when they truly meant, “I am proud of you.” What would it take for us to say that we’re proud of ourselves, even if it’s silently. Especially if it’s silently. Maybe silent pride is the best kind of all. But that’s not to say that we shouldn’t sing our own praises from time to time. ME TOO! I LIKE MY PAINTING!

So this month I’ve been taking stock of some of the “ripples” as a way of actually practicing gratitude for all of those deflected thank yous. It’s uncomfortable to even admit here, but part of why I write is to help people, and I think this subject is too seldom broached. I’m fighting myself, but I figure that my book is all about healing our wounds when it comes to our honest self-expression…so I should show up in this way in regard to my own.

So to that end, I have a file on my computer desktop called, Kind Notes.

Not for any personal gain. Just like you’d keep a thoughtful gift somewhere that you can hold in your hand from time to time when you need to feel the trajectory of kindness. I decided to go into that file this weekend. With so much sadness and worry in the world, I needed to read kindness. These notes of kindness weren’t solicited. They were offered. I thanked their givers in real life. But I didn’t really let the notes soak in, per the pride/shame wound. Here’s how I know that I didn’t really let those kind notes soak in: as my eyes read their kind words, there was a small part of me that felt so good about it. But the majority of me was thinking things like, Aw they’re just saying that to be polite. Or They’re just nice as a rule. It’s their MO. They’d tell anyone that something they did changed their lives. Or They’re likely prone to exaggeration.

As I read these Kind Notes, I checked in with my mind. Was I receiving them? Not really. I realized I have work to do in the gratitude for gratitude department.

So I began again. This time, I started with notes from people whose kindness is easier to receive. Kind notes from my Haven writing retreaters. Out of all the things I do in this world, I am most clear about the magic of my writing retreats. I can’t really fully experience my children implementing my teachings and love in their lives. I can’t witness people’s experience of reading my books or essays or even a newsletter. But over and over again I get to watch how Haven works in people as the retreat unfolds. Over 1,000 people and going strong! I am going to share some of these kind notes from retreaters here, (anonymously) even though there is a loud inner voice telling me that I’ll get accused of bragging. I’m doing this as a way to show you what’s possible in the way of giving and receiving thanks. We have got to learn how to receive praise and gratitude. Thank you to all of you who wrote these kind notes. I receive your kindness.

From a retreater to her group, after the retreat:

Hello beautiful women!

I cannot believe it is done. I also cannot believe how quickly beautiful friendships can form. I leave feeling grateful and so blessed to have journeyed this with all of you. I have a deep belief that I was put in Montana for the last 4 days to be exactly in this place with exactly these people:-) I love you all like sisters. I couldn't really communicate any of this today as I felt like I was constantly keeping a torrent of tears damned up. I could not breach the dam.

I came with the intention of healing, gaining clarity on my writing project, and building confidence. But as I sit on this plane, I realize that I am leaving with multitudes more! I feel like a bandit escaping without people knowing how much 'loot' I have in my heart and mind. I think I got more than I gave:-)

This is not goodbye but simply the beginning.

***

In response to the above from another retreater:

Dear Sisters in Spirit,

Thank you for the lovely message following our wonderful retreat. I, too, feel like I won the jackpot at Haven.

I went to Haven with the hope of overcoming doubts and finding direction. I believe I came away with more confidence and a pathway forward in my writing. So I’m grateful.

I had no idea that at the same time I would find like-minded word warriors like you all. I am humbled to have been among you. I look forward to continuing our journey and friendship together as a writing community.

I return home knowing you have my back, and I have yours.

***

Another:

Hi everyone! I can't believe I'm back, either! Wow, what a powerful retreat and incredible the connections we've all made. I was on the verge of tears the whole time--and even now--and I'm not normally a crier. You all really are an incredible group of women and I feel so lucky to have experienced this with you. I'm really looking forward to our group meetings.

***

This one to me directly:

Laura,

I can’t thank you enough for opening up this new world to me. Haven was an unforgettable and life-changing experience. THANK YOU!

***

Gratitude given. Gratitude received.

And then there is gratitude for the Haven Foundation: (Think that Haven is beyond your budget? My non-profit can offer partial scholarships to those who have been accepted into the program and need financial support!)

Dear Haven Foundation,

Thank you so much for the scholarship and support to attend Haven! I am grateful and full of appreciation for the opportunity to attend this writing retreat.

Thank you also for the work you do to make this a possibility for other writers. We help ourselves when we write, and when we broaden our audience and share our writing with others, we can help them, too. The Haven Writing Retreats seem like a catalyst for this important work.

I don’t take this for granted, and hopefully can pay it forward in the near future.

And Social Media gratitude:

As mentioned prior, the other day I held up the most recent books I’ve helped my Haven clients write in some way shape or form, filmed it, and put the reel on social media. And these gifts came in from their authors. I didn’t expect them. I never expect them.

Thank You Laura Munson!! You made me believe that I could be an author. My book is a year old and changing lives! Forever grateful to you for believing!

Monica Rothgery— Lessons from the Drive Through

Thanks for all your precious advice and suggestions, dear Laura!! And what a good crop of writers you have helped get out into the world!!!

Sally Stevens— I Sang That

Amazing amazing amazing Laura Munson. Forever grateful for YOU, your life, your vision, your love, your mentorship and your commitment to all of us!

Julie Fingersh— Stay

You are a true book doula! You see them from the first spark of an idea in journals to words bound in book form. Thank you! For all you do with your generous heart and soul!!

Jaquelyn Jackson— The Female Rogue

INCREDIBLE what you have created, Laura, as well as all of these authors. Publishing a book is not an easy thing to do AND look at those who have.

Stephanie Maley— No Longer That Girl

YOU DID THIS!!!!!

JJ Elliott— There are No Rules for This

Amazing! What a great line-up!!

Megan Walrod— It’s Always Been Me

This is amazing! Thank you, Laura

Sally McQuillen— Reaching for Beautiful

Thank you, Laura, for your support and encouragement.

Cheryl Landes— The Best I Can Do

I cried at work after our first talk about Haven and I knew I had to attend. Why? Because you heard me, my dream and encouraged me to just write it. I published my children’s book last summer. Your touch made my little book magical. Clearly I need to send you a copy!

Renee Wayne— Erik Picks a Pittie

WOW....your legacy, what can one say! The ripples keep growing!

Tracey Yokas— Bloodlines

***

The ripples keep growing.

Gifts I am truly grateful for. But it’s easy to practice gratitude on people you love and with whom you have worked very intimately. It occurred to me to start saying “thank you” to strangers who write nice notes on the internet about my new book. Immediately my throat and chest clenched. People are mean on the internet. Reading reviews seemed like the varsity next step in the realm of receiving gratitude. But it’s a risk. What if there aren’t any nice notes on the internet? What if they’re all mean? But I braved it. And guess what. There were some very nice notes. So I wrote a kind note back to them, where possible, and said “Thank you,” out loud, alone in my room, looking at the computer screen. “Thank you,” Susie in Utah. “Thank you” Alicia in Rhode Island. …

The Wild Why… A testimonial:

(on Good Reads)

“This book isn’t to be read in a weekend. I don’t want it to end. I’m taking it slowly and surely. I love the prompts at the end of each chapter. I am savoring it. It’s like you wrote it just for me. I can’t tell you how many times I have nodded, underlined, written notes in the margins. Laughed. Cried. Thank you. This book is my new best friend.”

Then this one on Amazon, also 5 star. I try not to read reviews. I’ve learned not to. But I allowed myself to scan them. All of them are so beautiful. People are really getting this book! (Feel free to put a nice review on Amazon, Bookshop.org, Goodreads, etc. It really helps an author out!)

And another:

“Laura Munson’s The Wild Why is the kind of book that doesn’t just sit quietly on your nightstand — it calls to you. Gently. Boldly. Like the voice you forgot you had, asking questions you forgot you were allowed to ask.

This luminous blend of memoir and guidebook is a call back to the self — not the polished, performative self, but the raw, curious, awe-filled self we were all born with. Munson has an incredible ability to write with both poetic grace and practical grounding. Her words invite reflection, creativity, and a quiet kind of healing that builds page by page.

The wonder she speaks of is not just a concept — it’s a practice. And The Wild Why offers not just inspiration but tangible, gentle invitations to return to the place inside where wonder lives. Through reflective prompts, personal stories, and spiritual inquiry, Munson helps us see that reclaiming our “why” isn’t just a luxury — it’s a necessity.”

Thank you.”

“Thank you!” I said as exuberantly as I could. “And more importantly…you’re welcome!”

I am writing this essay to claim and receive gratitude in hopes that it will help you do the same.

Not to “show off” or be pretentious or precious or brag or be self-aggrandizing. But to be grateful. And to be proud. And to blow through my shame in-so-doing. It’s requiring almost constant practice, this receiving of gratitude. This doffing of the protective shield. This pride-shaming old inner tactic. Learned but long-practiced. But I’m attempting to take off my armor and try to really feel what there is to feel in the way of you’re welcome. And even pride. “YOU DID THIS!” Wow. Everything in me wants to say, “No YOU did this.” Which is mostly true. But it’s also true that I have played a part in all of those authors’ books. And all of those retreats. And all my books, published or not. Again, I would be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling highly uncomfortable sharing these ripples of gratitude. But I am writing past my comfort to help us, and so I feel like I am modelling to both of us what’s possible. You can share gratitude that has come your way without being a braggart. Right?

The more I read kind notes the more they seemed to come in. This from a book club: (Happy to beam into your book club! Email me and we’ll get you on my calendar!)

“Thank you so much for spending time with our Book Club this evening. The time you spent with us was amazing, wonderful, provocative, heartfelt and perfect in every way. We spent some time together after you left the conversation and our conversations were rich, deep and heartfelt. Everyone agreed the time with you was so special. Thank you for gifting yourself, your message and new ways to think as we walk forward on our journeys. Wishing you awe, wonderment, and quiet moments as you travel in these weeks to come.” And then “I hope you can take a bow!”

I smiled a bit. Not a bow, but an attempt.

And another book club attendee:

“The moment Laura spoke about The Wild Why, something in me shifted. Her words weren’t just written—they were lived. I felt as if she reached into the quiet corners of my own “why,” daring me to examine it with compassion and courage. I walked away intrigued, inspired, and somehow more open to the possibility that our inner wildness isn’t something to tame—but something to trust.”

Maybe we should expect gratitude like we’re told to expect miracles? I’m not ready to swallow that concept whole. Expecting gratitude for our deeds seems wrong. But how would life be different if we did? If even in small ways. A smile, for instance. Or maybe it’s more this: when the gratitude comes, be open to it. Notice it. Be attune to it. Embrace it. Return it by saying “thank you.” I don’t know if it’s that I’m finally paying attention to these ripples or if they’re happening because I’m paying attention. Either way…I am truly grateful for all the love. And I humbly, but with pride, say thank you.

So the next time someone compliments you or thanks you, truly thanks you…try receiving it in whatever way that seems true to you.

Don’t deflect. Receive. “Thank you for your kindness. I receive it with my whole heart.” I hope that reading this will help you claim the gratitude that comes your way. It takes practice. It may seem counter-intuitive. It may seem vain. Oh well. Can you look at it like a mother saying, “Good job being kind to that sad kid at school today. You helped her. You showed up and you helped her. I’m proud of you.” Can you say, “Thanks.” Only you’re the mother and you’re the daughter that did the good deed, both?

As for children, I’m not sure they need to say thank you and you’re welcome to each other. It’s in the way they look at each other. It’s in the way they cup their fingers in their loose hands and together hold on tight until they become one fist.

As for taking a bow, I wonder if those Broadway actors, when they hold hands and take those deep-dipped bows to an audience standing in ovation, clapping and roaring with Bravo…really feel the gratitude. Or if they are just…well…acting. I hope it’s the former.

If you are acting, it’s time to stop. It’s time to say “you’re welcome” in your own, and true, way. And mean it. Begin with a file that says, “Kind Notes.” Read it often. Add to it. When we live our life kindly…the kindness comes back to us. Whether we’re comfortable with it or not. I think: it’s time to get comfortable with it. What’s the alternative? To keep deflecting kindness? To live in shame? To clip off truly meaningful moments of kindness both ways? Let’s not do that anymore.

Here's some kindness, both ways, that I can offer you:

· Invite me to speak at your book club (gratis if you get this newsletter)

· Read The Wild Why and offer a kind review on Bookshop.org, Amazon, Good Reads, etc.

· Consider an intro call with me to see if a Haven Writing Retreat is right for you!

· Take my four week online writing course in partnership with Gemini Ink. This course is for anyone who wants to write in wonder. It all begins there…

Please enjoy these recent podcasts and radio shows: (with many more to come…)

· The Wild Why on The Women’s Eye

· The Wild Why on The Writer Files

· The Wild Why on Living The Next Chapter

· The Wild Why on Live True with Lisa Lucca

Contact me here: info@lauramunson.com and we’ll see how I can support you!

In kindness and gratitude,

Laura

Haven Writing Retreats:

I still have spots on all three of my fall Haven Writing Retreats!

September 3 – 7, 2025 – one spot left
October 15 – 19, 2025 – still room
October 29 – November 2, 2025 – still room