The Quiet Kind of Gratitude

Gratitude hits differently as you get older.

It stops being something you list in a journal or talk about around the holidays. It becomes quieter. Heavier. More honest. Something you feel humming in the background of your life without needing to announce it.

For me, gratitude almost always circles back to my mom.

She was never the type to point out her sacrifices or make her support about her. She just showed up. Over and over, in ways I didn’t fully understand until much later.

I think about being 13 years old, guitar case bigger than I was, playing tiny shows in restaurants and cafés where the “stage” was just a corner with one flickering bulb. Somehow, she drove me to every single one. Weeknights. Weekends. Snowstorms. Long days. She sat in the back, smiling even when I was shaky or unsure — like the music mattered simply because I cared about it.

I think about graduations, too, every milestone, every ceremony, every moment when the future felt both exciting and terrifying. She was there for all of it. Fully present. Fully steady.

And then there were the smaller things, the things that shouldn’t matter as much as they do, but somehow do anyway.

The dessert samplers she’d bring home when she could tell I needed something comforting.
The quiet moments when life felt heavy.
The subtle reminders that someone was rooting for me.

It wasn’t about the desserts.
It was the message behind them:

I see you. I’m with you. I’m not going anywhere.

The older I get, the more I appreciate that consistency.
Because she didn’t just show up when I was thriving.
She showed up when I wasn’t.

She supported the version of me that felt proud and confident, and the version that felt lost, overwhelmed, or unsure who I was supposed to be. So much of who I am today, how I care for people, how I show up for my students, how I handle setbacks, how I try to lead with compassion, it comes directly from her quiet, steady influence.

That’s the kind of gratitude that stays with you.

Not performative.
Not seasonal.
But lived.

The Science of Quiet Gratitude (and How to Practice It Daily)

One thing I’ve learned both personally and through my work is that gratitude doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful. In fact, research shows that the quietest forms of gratitude often do the most good.

Psychologists call this trait gratitude, the ability to consistently notice the good in your life, even in small doses. People who cultivate trait gratitude tend to have:

• lower stress and anxiety

• better emotional regulation

• stronger, more trusting relationships

• higher resilience during difficult seasons

And you don’t develop trait gratitude through a once-a-year reflection.

You build it the same way my mom showed up for me, through small, steady moments that add up over time.

Quiet gratitude looks like:

• noticing the first warm sip of coffee (If you drink it, hot chocolate for those who like the good stuff)

• taking a breath before walking into work and recognizing one thing that feels okay today

• paying attention to someone’s softened tone when they speak to you

• letting a moment of support actually sink in

• remembering who has shown up for you without being asked

Research is clear on this:
You don’t have to feel overwhelmed with gratitude for it to count.
You just have to notice.

Noticing is the practice.
And the practice compounds.

A tiny moment today becomes a little more awareness tomorrow.
A little more grounding next week.
A little more emotional space when life gets chaotic.

For me, quiet gratitude shows up when I think about my mom in those passing moments — when I feel supported, or proud, or when I show up for someone else the way she showed up for me.

It’s not loud.
It’s not dramatic.
But it’s real.
And it changes the way I move through the world.

A Challenge for the Week

Think of the person who has shown up for you in every season — the one who cheered when you were thriving and stayed steady when you weren’t.

Reach out.
Tell them.
Say thank you.

Sometimes gratitude isn’t about grand gestures.
It’s about acknowledging the quiet, consistent love that shaped you — whether you realized it at the time or not.

Self Talk Superhero

Adam Parker, school psychologist and musician, shares his newest song “Self-Talk Superhero.” This uplifting, Emo Mr. Rogers–style short encourages kids and adults alike to use positive self-talk and remind themselves that they are strong, capable, and resilient. Watch, sing along, and become your own self-talk superhero today!

What do you say to yourself when something is hard?

Do you hear, “I can do it”? Or does your mind slip into “I should just give up”? Maybe it’s “I’m strong and powerful!” … or sometimes, just “What if…?”

Self-talk—the words and tone we use with ourselves—matters more than we realize. It’s like a hidden soundtrack playing all day, guiding how we act, how we feel, and how we bounce back from challenges.

Everyday Superpowers

Think about your daily routine. You’ve already been a superhero today:

• You defeated the villain of the snooze button and got out of bed.

• You conquered the challenge of showing up—at school, at work, or at home—ready to tackle the day.

• You’ve already navigated social interactions, chores, and responsibilities.

Yet, most of us forget to give ourselves credit for these victories. We brush them off as “normal life,” but they’re proof that you’re capable, resilient, and stronger than you think.

Why Self-Talk Is So Important

Our brains are wired to hold onto negative thoughts more tightly than positive ones. It’s called the negativity bias. That’s why one unkind comment can echo in our minds longer than five compliments. When we pile on our own negative self-talk, it’s like handing the villain extra weapons.

Positive self-talk doesn’t mean ignoring struggles, it means reminding yourself that you’ve overcome hard things before and you can do it again. It builds confidence, reduces stress, and helps you recover more quickly from mistakes. In other words, it’s your superhero cape: invisible to others, but powerful enough to help you soar.

My Morning Practice

Lately, I’ve been trying to start my day with kind words in the mirror. For example:

“Ok Mr. Parker, it’s Monday. You are capable, you are fun, you get to connect with students today, and you’re good at it. Let’s go!”

It feels silly sometimes, but superheroes talk to themselves too. They remind themselves of their mission before heading into battle. Why shouldn’t we?

Try This: The Self-Talk Superhero Activity

1. Name Your Superhero Persona. Give yourself a fun title. (Maybe Captain Confidence or The Amazing Optimist.)

2. Write Your Catchphrase. Create one short, powerful line you can say when things get tough. (“I’ve got this.” “One step at a time.” “I’m stronger than I think.”)

3. Do the Mirror Test. Tomorrow morning, look at yourself in the mirror and say your catchphrase out loud. Notice how it feels.

4. Catch the Villain. When a negative thought sneaks in during the day, imagine it as the “villain” and replace it with your superhero line.

Final Reminder

Negative thoughts are sticky—they cling like gum to your shoes. But your superhero words are stronger. Every mistake is an opportunity to learn, every new situation a chance to try. You’ve been amazing all along, and your self-talk can remind you of that truth.

So, put on your invisible cape, call yourself by your superhero name, and go face the day.

Because you already are a self-talk superhero.

Finding Yourself in Alone Time

Adam Parker Colorado School Psychologist sings about taking time for yourself

I struggled with this week’s blog and which lens to write from. Do I write as Adam the school psychologist, sharing the lessons I see children practicing each week in schools? Or do I write as someone who also needs those same skills in his own life? Maybe the truth is that they intersect, because I am not only teaching these skills, I am practicing them too.

This week is all about alone time.

For adult me, that looks like getting in my car after work with the backseat filled with snacks, layered clothing, and my guitar, and heading straight for the mountains. For you, it might look like curling up in a hammock with headphones, burying your head in a good book, or walking through the park. The point is not where you are, it’s the act of stepping away from the things that demand your attention and rediscovering who you are when nobody is asking anything of you.

In a previous blog, I wrote about recharging. While alone time certainly recharges us, it also helps us find ourselves. Alone time gives our brains space to process all we take in during the day. When we are always surrounded by people, devices, and responsibilities, it’s easy to lose track of our own voice. Quiet moments give us clarity, lower our stress, and build resilience. Alone time is not about shutting the world out, it’s about strengthening yourself so you can show up better when you step back into it.

Growing up as an only child, my alone time was vast. I would sing and dance in the mirror, ride my bike to faraway lands (okay, really just the park two blocks away, but to me it felt like an epic adventure), and sit in my room drawing quirky characters with even quirkier backstories. That space gave me permission to be uniquely me, to get comfortable with my own oddness. And when we feel comfortable in our own skin, we grow. Who better to build that relationship with than the face you wake up to each morning?

Think about what you like to do when you’re taking space: long walks, zoning out to your favorite playlist, doodling in a notebook, building Legos, playing with your pet, or even lying in the grass staring at the sky. Try carving out time each week for one of those things. If it helps, schedule it, maybe every Friday from 3:00 to 3:30 is “hang out with myself” time. For some, it’s a solo weekend getaway; for others, it’s ten quiet minutes before bed.

Every big singer on stage, every teacher in front of a class, every player on the field, at some point, they built themselves up during quiet, unseen moments. Alone time is where confidence grows its roots. Build that confidence in the safety of your own space, and then carry it into the world.

Take the time. You are worth it.