Gratitude. It’s the word we hear endlessly this time of year, woven into commercials, splashed across social media, and nestled into self-help spaces. But how often do we feel gratitude deep in our core, rather than just going through the motions? Has the repetition dulled its meaning?

Contrast is something I often talk about—whether it’s with my clients, my dance students, or even myself. In tap, we find shading through soft and loud sounds. In contemporary, I ask my dancers to explore smooth and sharp textures. With clients, it’s negative space and balance, knowing when too much is too much. Even in design, contrast—like pairing thin, delicate ligatures with bold, solid typefaces—creates interest and depth.

But beyond art and movement, contrast exists in life itself. It’s what gives us a full spectrum of experience. And when it comes to gratitude, contrast has taught me this:

How can we truly know gratitude for the light if we haven’t also known the darkness?