A few years ago, when SUVs were just starting to be popular in the UK, there was a news item on the radio about their use, the environmental impact of these high-fuel-consumption vehicles, and whether or not their use should be restricted.  One of the people interviewed for the program was a guy who'd been driving SUVs for years.  As far as he was concerned, "It's my God-given right to put as much low-price fuel in my vehicle as I want."

His remarks have stayed with me since, as an example of someone who is living in entitlement rather than from gratitude.  We have become used to the idea that we can have the life we want or that abundance is our right.

Much of the personal development and coaching world reflects this with claims that "you can have it all" or that "you can make your dreams come true."  All well and good, perhaps, but what often accompanies such ideas is that we are somehow entitled to good fortune rather than being grateful to life for what it gives us.

Let's take a look at entitlement and gratitude as emotions, from the perspective of emotions being a predisposition for action.  How I feel about something predisposes me to act in a certain way.  If, for instance, I feel angry, my predisposition is to punish.  If I feel safe, my predisposition is to trust.

With entitlement comes the predisposition to grab, to defend my right to have something.  It's mine by right, and if I can't have it, then I have the right to fight for it or to take it from you.  When we are in the mood of entitlement, we might say things like: "It's not fair that she has this and I don't," or "It's my right to have as much as I want."  Statements like that of the man above, defending his right to drive his SUV, come from that place.

With gratitude comes something quite different.

With gratitude, the predisposition is to appreciate, to be grateful, to contribute.  When I am in gratitude, then life itself is a gift—I'm not "staking my claim" to anything.  I appreciate what I have and don't try to hold onto it.

When I am in entitlement, it's as if the world owes me a living.  When I am in gratitude, I am appreciative of what life has given me and willing to make my contribution, rather than being out to get whatever I can.

Newfield founder Julio Olalla, among others, has made an important point about the implications of these different emotions for the environment.  When I live in entitlement, then nature is a resource to be squandered, to be appropriated for my needs.  When I live in gratitude, nature is something I am a part of, and natural resources are no longer to be taken for granted.  He suggests that true environmental change cannot come about unless we shift the emotional context from which we live in relation to the planet.

This is easy to see in practice.  We live in a time when it is clear that we need to do something to address the environmental issues facing us all.  Yet, whenever a measure that might help, like limiting private car use, taxing airline fuel, reducing our consumption of resources, etc., some lobby or other will speak up "for the motorist," for our freedom, for our right to continue to enjoy our lifestyle.

The mood of entitlement prevents us from being able to make real changes in our lifestyle, especially when those changes would cost us something to which we feel entitled.  As the concept of "Peak Oil" and its implications begins to hit us, entitlement could, for example, be seen to lead us towards fighting for precious resources to stop us from having to face the discomfort caused by reducing our levels of consumption.  In his excellent, provocative, and disturbing book, The Long Emergency, James Kunstler argues that as we face the effects of Peak Oil, what will be needed is a massive scaling down of our consumption and our working together to design new ways of living and providing sufficient food, etc.  Such changes cannot happen easily when we are still caught in entitlement.

The voice of entitlement says, "Why should I make do with less?", whereas the voice of gratitude says, "I am grateful to have what I have."  Gratitude does not have the sense of expectation that entitlement brings.

With entitlement comes the desire for life to be a certain way; with gratitude comes appreciation for what is.

I remember when the British travel-writer and filmmaker, Michael Palin, was in the Sahara, he was asking some of the people he met (who were living in extreme poverty) about how they found happiness.  One of them replied, "Whatever God gives us makes us happy."

For me, real abundance comes not from having plenty but from being able to appreciate what I have and from being truly grateful to life.  True abundance means enjoying what I have today without having to have it tomorrow.  For example, I love traveling (especially if I get to fly business class!) or a good steak or buying expensive jeans, but if I have to have them or see them as my right rather than something I am fortunate or lucky enough to have, then that is entitlement and I am likely to become resentful when I don't have them.

When I have a meal in front of me, I can either see it as being my right or not being quite delicious enough, or I can see it as being truly a miracle that I have enough to eat and that all of nature has come together to produce this miracle from life.  It's the same meal, but my experience of it and how I live from that experience can be totally different, depending on whether I am in entitlement or in gratitude.

Aboodi Shabi

One of the things I sometimes notice in myself when I approach a meeting or conversation is the expectation or hope that the meeting will be concluded with any outstanding issues being resolved. There might be a few ongoing issues, and I go into the meeting wanting all of them to be complete by the end of the conversation.

If only!  Real life, of course, is not like that, and, indeed it can be very frustrating sometimes to find that, far from resolving the issues, the conversation might open up further issues or concerns, and resolution can seem very far away.

Often, one of my coaching clients will talk to me about preparing for an important conversation—perhaps with a manager, a spouse, or an important new customer. In addition to any preparation we might do (e.g., looking at what needs to be said, presence in the conversation, etc), one of the questions I explore with my clients has to do with their expectations for the conversation being the "final" conversation and how that might shape their approach.

When I go into a conversation expecting it to produce a conclusive outcome, then that shapes how I approach it—I have a fixed goal in mind which can blind me to some of the nuances of the conversation or to some new possibilities, and, above all, make it harder for me to "dance" with the other person in the conversation.

It is important to have intention and focus when we go into meetings or important conversations, but when I go in with the sole intention of getting an outcome, that is a sure way to my not being fully present in the conversation and to my being disappointed by any lack of clear outcome. Much as I might prefer to get completion in a conversation, it often doesn't happen—new possibilities might be opened up, other issues we hadn't thought about might become evident, or the other person just isn't ready to agree to a specific outcome.  Sometimes, the only completion is that we agree to talk later or to do more research and meet again.

To make matters more complex, when a conversation or meeting does produce a clear resolution, circumstances may change and the conversation may have to be revisited regularly and parameters and agreements renegotiated. I often find myself, in either my personal or my professional life, thinking, "I thought we'd resolved that—why are we having to discuss it again?" Well, because life moves on, and any relationship, professional or personal, is a series of unfolding conversations rather than a finality.

There is a paradox here—holding the tension between wanting a clear outcome and "staying in the dance" of the conversation. But, ultimately, life is a series of conversations where we need to check in, take stock, and renegotiate. Relationships are the same—any long-term relationship will change, and things that we thought we'd agreed on in the past or issues that we thought we'd resolved ages ago may need to be discussed again.  When I accept this, my conversations (and my relationships) are easier, more open, and much more creative.

Aboodi Shabi