Gratitude for Yesterday, Courageous Yes to Tomorrow
Created at: October 2, 2025
For all that has been, thanks. For all that shall be, yes. — Dag Hammarskjold
A Two-Part Prayer of Acceptance
Hammarskjöld’s line compresses an ethic into two compact vows: gratitude for the irrevocable past, and consent to the uncharted future. The first posture names what has already shaped us without denial or bitterness; the second affirms a forward-leaning trust that welcomes what is to come. Read together, “thanks” and “yes” form a single movement of acceptance rather than passivity—an interior stance sturdy enough for real responsibility. To see why this matters, it helps to remember that the words sound like prayer. They belong to a tradition where consent to reality becomes a source of strength, not surrender. From that center, action can be decisive precisely because it is unencumbered by regret or dread.
Hammarskjöld’s Quiet Strength in Service
As the United Nations’ second Secretary-General (1953–1961), Hammarskjöld navigated the Suez Crisis (1956) and the Congo Crisis (1960) with a blend of resolve and restraint. He died in a plane crash near Ndola in 1961, en route to peace talks—an end that underscored the seriousness of his vocation. His private spiritual journal, Markings (1963), preserves the quoted line and reveals how inner consent steadied public duty. In those pages, he writes of surrender not as withdrawal but as readiness, a willingness to be used where one is needed. Thus “thanks” becomes the discipline that frees memory from grievance, while “yes” becomes the courage to meet the next call.
Gratitude as Moral Memory
Gratitude reframes the past without falsifying it. Rather than denying pain, it names gifts that survived it, converting memory into a reservoir of meaning. Research on gratitude’s effects—such as studies summarized by Robert Emmons (Thanks!, 2007)—shows how thankful reflection can increase resilience and prosocial behavior. Ancient voices intuited the same; Cicero reputedly called gratitude the parent of virtues, signaling its generative power. Moreover, practices like the Ignatian examen from Ignatius of Loyola’s Spiritual Exercises (1548) train a nightly habit: notice, give thanks, and learn. In Hammarskjöld’s terms, “thanks” is moral memory—an honest appraisal that releases energy for tomorrow instead of anchoring us in yesterday’s injuries.
Saying Yes to the Unknown Future
The second clause—“yes”—is not naïveté; it is hope disciplined by realism. It resembles Kierkegaard’s leap of faith, a trust enacted in uncertainty (Fear and Trembling, 1843). It also echoes Viktor Frankl’s insistence on affirming meaning despite suffering in Man’s Search for Meaning (1946). Even Nietzsche’s amor fati celebrates consenting to life as it comes (The Gay Science, §276, 1882). Seen this way, “yes” is moral availability: a promise to meet events as they arrive, neither fleeing nor foreclosing. It steadies the will to choose the good under pressure, precisely because it does not demand guarantees in advance.
From Inner Consent to Public Courage
Hammarskjöld tied inner clarity to institutional duty. In The International Civil Servant in Law and in Fact (1961), he sketched a vocation defined by impartial service, independence, and fidelity to the Charter. The inner “thanks/yes” makes this possible; it quiets self-importance, opening space for principled action that neither panders nor postures. Thus personal prayer becomes public ethics: gratitude tempers grievance politics, and consent to the future sustains long commitments. Between resignation and bravado lies a steadier courage—the willingness to do the next right thing without dramatizing either success or sacrifice.
Practices for Living the Thanks and Yes
To translate the aphorism into habit, begin with a brief evening review: list three concrete thanks, then one learning you will carry forward. Next, pre-commit to a small “yes” for tomorrow—a call, a visit, a repair—so assent becomes embodied. Implementation intentions can help (“If it is 8 a.m., then I write the email”), a method studied by Peter Gollwitzer (1999). Finally, set a morning cue—a line from Markings (1963), a breath prayer, or a simple “Yes, here I am”—to align intention before demands arrive. Over time, these small liturgies stitch together a life that looks like Hammarskjöld’s sentence: thankful for what formed us, and ready for what calls next.