By Gonny 
Should Gratitude Be on Its Knees?
Sometimes, you watch something and immediately feel resistance. Not because you don’t understand it, but because it’s painfully obvious what’s happening. Yesterday, I watched the meeting between Zelensky and Trump (I almost said ‘Putin’, but maybe that slip says enough). What stood out to me—or rather, irritated me—was how the U.S. president and vice president,
spoke about gratitude.
According to them, Zelensky had not shown enough ‘gratitude.’ Apparently, he had not said thank you clearly enough, and he also should not describe the Russian president with ‘ugly words.’ That was impolite. A diplomatic misstep.
But what do they mean by gratitude? Do they expect a deeply bowing Zelensky, kneeling before the mighty giver? Must he first make himself small to prove that he truly recognizes what he has received?
It was an uncomfortable moment, not just because the whole world was watching, but because it revealed a mechanism that plays out in so many situations: the expectation that gratitude is an obligation, a debt that must be repaid.
That struck a nerve. Not just because of this particular situation, but in how people think about kindness. The idea that a gift only has real value if the receiver humbles themselves and submits to the giver.
So I started thinking about what gratitude truly is. Because ACourse in Miracles teaches that giving and receiving are the same. True gratitude is not a transaction, not proof that you were ‘worthy’ of something. It’s a recognition that love and abundance cannot be lost.
Real gratitude arises naturally. Not through force or expectation, but through the realization that nothing has been taken from you, that giving expands something instead of diminishing it.
If Trump and his assistant truly believed in the power of giving, they wouldn’t need a public display where the recipient puts on the ‘proper grateful face.’ They would know that their giving had already been received. But that’s the point—it wasn’t truly giving. It was lending something out with the expectation of recognition, of power, of control. And when that didn’t come, it felt like an insult.
True gratitude cannot be demanded. That’s the paradox: the more you demand it, the less you receive it. Just as love cannot arise from a command, gratitude cannot flourish in an atmosphere of obligation.
So back to the question: should Zelensky have been more grateful? Maybe he could have said the words again and again and again, but would that have changed anything? Or would it just have been a polite formality to make the other feel like they had done something grand?
Perhaps it’s time to rethink our definition of gratitude. Not as an obligation, not as a debt, but as something that naturally arises when something is truly given. When love is shared, when there are no hidden agendas, when giving is not a means to get something in return.
Until then, there will always be people who want gratitude to kneel. But real gratitude doesn’t have to. It stands tall, with open arms, knowing that it owes nothing—because it has already been received.
With love and light,
G.