We had the thing that most people only write in journals and manifest under a full moon. The partner. Parenthood. The land with citrus trees and soil soft enough to grow dinner. It felt like we’d finally arrived. And then (like flipping a switch), it was gone. All of it. We couldn’t eat. We couldn’t breathe. We escaped to our retreat space SURÁ, unsure if we were healing or just hiding.

Trembling over our kitchen counter in heartbreak, a hummingbird hovered by the window just long enough for us to look up from the ache. And that day, we didn’t miss the miracle because we were too busy mourning the plan. We noticed. And noticing changes everything.

That’s the thing about gratitude—it doesn’t fix what’s broken. It just makes space for something else to exist alongside the pain. Something like hope. Or perspective. Or the soft flutter of a wing when you need it most.

GRATITUDE WITHOUT THE GLITTER

It is often mistaken for bypassing. But in the Cobalt + Capulets Method, gratitude is a tool for seeing clearly, not pretending everything’s fine. When we choose to notice what’s good (even briefly), we interrupt the default mode of scanning for what’s missing.

That’s not toxic positivity. That’s science. The brain is a pattern machine. And gratitude is how we shift the pattern—by shifting the focus. It’s not about being grateful for the loss. It’s about seeing what still breathes inside the wreckage.

Spiritual bypassing says: “Everything happens for a reason.”

Gratitude (the C+C way) says: “This hurts. And I can still find a reason to keep going.”

We don’t deny the grief, the rage, or the wreckage. We sit with it, and still scan for something good. Not as a way out. As a way through. Because gratitude isn’t meant to silence the pain. It’s meant to sit beside it.

To remind your system that not everything is lost, even when it feels that way. And when practiced with presence (not performance), it doesn’t push your feelings away. It expands your capacity to hold them.

GRATITUDE ISN’T BYPASSING, IT’S BIOLOGY

Neuroscience tells us that gratitude activates areas of the brain associated with emotion regulation and perspective. Energy work tells us the same thing, just in a different language. When you choose to notice what’s working, your frequency shifts. Your system steadies. Your vision clears. Gratitude isn’t a vibe. It’s a vibration. It changes the signal you’re sending—and the reality you’re shaping.

This is why Consciousness is the first C of the Cobalt + Capulets Method. It’s not insight for insight’s sake. It’s the discipline of presence. The ability to hold both ache and awe in the same breath. Gratitude is how we train the mind to soften. To notice the miracle before it passes. To stop defaulting to crisis as a personality trait.

We didn’t learn this in a workshop. We learned it barefoot, unable to swallow anything but tears. The first thing we could hold was not a solution, but a single good thing. A warm breeze. The sound of birds. The shape of our grief.

THE SACRED ART OF WINGING IT

Noticing didn’t erase the ache. It gave it context. And in that context, we could finally breathe again. That’s where gratitude lives. Not in the fantasy of what we lost, but in the presence of what remains.

Gratitude doesn’t mean you’re grateful for the grief. It means you’re present with the moment. It’s how we interrupt the urge to numb or fix, and instead say: “This matters. I’m still here. And so is this tiny, golden flicker of aliveness.” That’s not bypass. That’s building new bandwidth for truth.

Because sometimes healing doesn’t look like a breakthrough. It looks like a bird hovering outside your kitchen window. The moment wasn’t planned. It wasn’t profound. It was a blink of something special that made room for breath. That is its own kind of miracle.