There’s something about Mary Oliver’s question in her poem, The Summer Day, that never fails to move me. “What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Lately, I’ve been wondering if the answer might be simpler than we think: practise wild gratitude.

But wait, isn’t that a contradiction? Gratitude is often portrayed as gentle, serene, a quiet “thank you” whispered into the universe. Wild, on the other hand, suggests something untamed, fierce, perhaps even dangerous.

This juxtaposition stopped me in my tracks. What if gratitude isn’t just the calm acknowledgment that we’ve domesticated it to be, but something with far more power, something that could become the secret engine of meaningful change?

Gratitude has been given a bad rap. It’s been hijacked by toxic positivity culture, reduced to Instagram posts of sunsets with inspirational quotes, or corporate team-building exercises where we’re forced to “share something we’re thankful for.”

When celebrities step off private rockets with full-face makeup and deliver rehearsed speeches about gratitude for their 11 minutes in space, something feels off.

True gratitude – wild gratitude – isn’t about ignoring pain or plastering a smile over genuine struggle. It’s not “good vibes only”. Instead, it acknowledges the spectrum of the human experience while still finding the courage to say: “And yet, there is this to be thankful for.”

A friend of mine often says, “Gratitude is where the magic gets in.” I’ve come to understand this as gratitude being the doorway through which possibility enters our lives. When we practise genuine appreciation, we shift from a mindset of scarcity to one of potential.

Think about change for a moment. Whether personal or professional, change is notoriously difficult. We resist it. We fear it. We sabotage ourselves even when we know transformation is necessary.

But gratitude – especially the wild, untamed variety – has a unique ability to soften that resistance.

When we acknowledge what’s already working, what we’ve already overcome, we build what psychologists call “change fitness”, the resilience required to navigate transformation.

Wild gratitude becomes a form of courage, allowing us to face uncertainty with an open heart rather than a clenched fist.

A while ago, I wrote an article about toxic workplaces and the journey of leaving them behind. It was personal, vulnerable, a reflection of my own difficult experience.

The other day, someone who joined my previous company after I’d left asked me for coffee. She wanted to thank me because she had quit, and she said it sounded like I was writing about her.

This is the ripple effect of expressed gratitude. When we articulate our appreciation – when we put it into words, art, music or action – it extends beyond ourselves. It creates connection. It empowers others. Wild gratitude isn’t just felt; it’s shared.

And in sharing, something magical happens: both the giver and receiver are transformed. The connection becomes a source of strength during times of change, a reminder that we’re not navigating life’s wildness alone.

So how do we cultivate this untamed appreciation? It begins with authenticity.

Wild gratitude acknowledges complexity. It might look like being thankful for the difficult conversation that forced you to grow, or the job loss that – painful as it was – pushed you toward a more aligned path. It recognises that our most significant growth often comes wrapped in our most significant challenges.

It also requires expression. Writing a note to someone whose words changed your trajectory. Taking a moment to thank your past self for a difficult decision that benefitted your present self. Sharing stories that might give others permission to make their own brave choices.

And perhaps most importantly, wild gratitude demands presence. In our rushed world, the wildest act of gratitude might simply be to stop, notice and fully absorb the moment – to let yourself be genuinely moved by the sunset instead of just photographing it for social media.

In reclaiming gratitude from the realm of platitudes and bringing it back to its wild, transformative potential, we honour what Mary Oliver was really asking us: Will you move through this precious life with your eyes and heart wide open?

Wild gratitude isn’t about taming life’s messiness into palatable portions. It’s about developing the capacity to stand amid the chaos – the pain, the joy, the uncertainty, the beauty – and still say “thank you”.