It happens to everyone. You’re stuck in traffic, the coffee was lukewarm, and your inbox looks like a digital war zone. In those moments, your brain naturally gravitates toward everything going wrong. It’s called a negativity bias. We’re literally wired to scan for threats and annoyances because, back in the day, that’s what kept us from getting eaten by tigers. But honestly, in 2026, the "tiger" is usually just a passive-aggressive email from a supervisor. This is exactly where the song counting your blessings—specifically the timeless hymn "Count Your Blessings"—comes into play. It isn't just some dusty relic from a Sunday school basement. It’s a psychological tool masquerading as a melody.
Johnson Oatman Jr. wrote the lyrics in 1897. Think about that for a second. The guy was living in a world without antibiotics, the internet, or even reliable electricity, yet he sat down and penned a manual for mental resilience. It’s actually kind of wild how much staying power these verses have.
The Weird Science Behind the Song Counting Your Blessings
Gratitude isn't just "good vibes" or some fluffy concept people post on Instagram to look enlightened. It’s biology. When you engage with the lyrics of a song like this, you’re essentially forcing your prefrontal cortex to override your amygdala. The amygdala is that tiny almond-shaped part of your brain that screams "DANGER" every time you get a parking ticket. By intentionally "naming them one by one," as the song suggests, you’re performing a cognitive reappraisal.
Researchers like Dr. Robert Emmons, who is basically the world’s leading expert on the science of gratitude, have found that people who regularly practice this kind of focused reflection have lower levels of cortisol. That’s the stress hormone that makes you feel like your chest is tight. It’s not just about feeling happy. It’s about physiological regulation.
Why the "One by One" Part Actually Matters
Most people make a mistake when they try to be grateful. They think in broad strokes. "I'm grateful for my health." Cool, but your brain gets bored with that really fast. The song is smarter than we give it credit for. It instructs the singer to name things "one by one."
Specificity is the secret sauce.
Instead of saying you’re grateful for "family," think about the specific way your kid laughed at a bad joke this morning or how your partner made the bed exactly the way you like it. This level of detail triggers a more robust dopamine release. You’re creating a vivid mental image, and your brain responds to that imagery as if it’s happening all over again. It’s a literal hack.
The Surprising History of Johnson Oatman Jr.
We tend to think of hymn writers as these ethereal, monk-like figures who spent all day meditating on a mountain. Not Johnson. The guy was a businessman. He worked in the mercantile trade and then went into insurance. He was a regular dude dealing with the grind of a 19th-century career.
He didn't even start writing songs until he was in his late 30s.
During his life, he wrote over 5,000 hymns. Imagine the sheer volume of output. He wasn't waiting for inspiration to strike like lightning; he was practicing a craft. When he wrote the song counting your blessings, he was writing from a place of experience. He knew what it felt like to be "tempest-tossed," a phrase he uses in the first verse. It’s a nautical metaphor, but it hits home for anyone who has ever felt overwhelmed by life’s storms.
The music was composed by Edwin O. Excell. If Oatman was the soul of the song, Excell was the engine. He was a master of the "gospel song" era, creating melodies that were easy to remember and even easier to sing in a group. That’s why it stuck. You don't need a four-octave range to sing this. You just need a pulse.
It’s Not About Toxic Positivity
Let's get one thing straight: this isn't about ignoring the bad stuff. Toxic positivity is that annoying habit of telling someone "everything happens for a reason" while their house is literally on fire. That’s not what we’re talking about here.
The song acknowledges the struggle.
It mentions being "burdened with a load of care." It recognizes that some people feel like "the cross is heavy." It doesn't ask you to lie to yourself. It just asks you to look at the other side of the ledger. Life is a dual-track experience. There is always suffering, and there is always something worth noting on the positive side. Both are true at the same time. Focusing on the blessings doesn't erase the pain; it just gives you the stamina to carry it.
How Different Generations Interpret the Lyrics
It’s fascinating to see how this song translates across time. To a Great Depression-era family, "counting your blessings" might have meant being thankful for a single sack of flour. To a Gen Z professional in 2026, it might mean being thankful for a remote work setup that allows them to avoid a soul-crushing commute.
The context changes, but the core human need remains identical.
💡 You might also like: Why The Hole in the Wall San Diego CA Is Still the Best Kept Secret in Point Loma
- The Boomer Perspective: Often associated with traditional church services and a sense of duty or "counting your luck."
- The Millennial Take: Seen through the lens of mindfulness and "gratitude journaling," which is basically the secular version of the hymn.
- The Gen Z View: A form of "grounding," a technique used to manage anxiety by focusing on physical or situational reality.
Honestly, it doesn't matter what you call it. Whether you're singing it from a hymnal or thinking about the concepts while walking your dog, the mechanics are the same. You're shifting your focus. You're moving from a scarcity mindset to an abundance mindset.
Real-World Application: The "Micro-Blessing" Technique
If you find the traditional lyrics a bit too old-fashioned, you can still use the "counting" framework in a modern way. I call it the "Micro-Blessing" count. It's basically the song counting your blessings for people who don't like singing.
Next time you’re feeling completely over it, stop. Find three tiny, almost insignificant things that didn't suck in the last hour. Maybe the light turned green just as you got to the intersection. Maybe you found a pen that actually writes on the first try. Maybe the air conditioning is hitting just right.
These aren't "grand" blessings. They aren't "saving your soul" level events. But when you name them—one by one—you disrupt the spiral of negativity.
The Social Component of Gratitude
There’s another layer to this. The song is usually sung in groups. There is a specific psychological phenomenon that happens when people synchronize their voices and their breathing. It’s called collective effervescence.
When you sing about gratitude with other people, your heart rate starts to sync up with theirs. You feel less alone in your "load of care." It’s a communal acknowledgment that life is hard, but there is still good to be found. In an age where we are more digitally connected but more socially isolated than ever, there’s something deeply radical about a group of people singing about what’s going right.
Common Misconceptions About the Song
People often think this song is about being wealthy. "Money and lands" are mentioned in the third verse, but the song actually says don't envy those who have them. It explicitly states that "your reward in heaven and your home on high" are the real prizes.
Whether you’re religious or not, the secular translation is this: Comparison is the thief of joy.
If you spend your time counting someone else's blessings, you'll always feel poor. If you count your own, you realize you've actually got quite a bit of "wealth" in the form of relationships, experiences, and simple survival.
Practical Steps to "Count Your Blessings" Today
You don't need a church or a choir to put this into practice. The goal is to make the sentiment of the song counting your blessings a functional part of your day.
1. The Morning Audit
Before you check your phone—and I mean before you even touch it—identify two things you’re looking forward to. It could be as simple as that first sip of coffee. This sets a "filter" for your brain to look for more positives throughout the day.
2. The "One by One" List
If you’re feeling particularly low, grab a piece of paper. Don't just think the thoughts; write them down. The physical act of writing engages different neural pathways. List ten things. They have to be specific. Not "my house," but "the way the sun hits the rug in the afternoon."
3. Use Music as a Trigger
Create a playlist. Put the actual hymn on there, or find modern songs that echo the same theme. When you feel the "tempest" rising, hit play. Let the rhythm do the heavy lifting for your mood.
4. The Evening Reflection
As you’re lying in bed, recount three things that went better than expected. Even if the day was a total disaster, maybe you managed to get to bed on time. Count it. That’s one.
💡 You might also like: Pull the Plug Meaning: Why We Say It and When to Actually Do It
The reality is that life isn't going to stop being difficult. There will always be bills, health scares, and global chaos. The song counting your blessings isn't a magic wand that makes those things disappear. It’s a lens adjustment. It reminds you that while the shadows are real, they only exist because there’s a light shining somewhere nearby.
Focus on the light. Name it. One by one. It’s a simple strategy, but it’s been working since 1897 for a reason. It turns out that Johnson Oatman Jr. wasn't just writing a song; he was giving us a survival guide for being human.
To get started, try the "3-2-1" method today:
- Identify 3 tiny things that went right in the last four hours.
- Tell 2 people something you appreciate about them.
- Take 1 minute to sit in silence and just notice your breath—the most basic blessing of all.
By turning these small actions into a habit, you effectively rewire your brain to notice opportunities and support systems that were previously invisible. You stop being a passive observer of your own life and start becoming an active participant in your own well-being. It’s not about ignoring the "tempest," but about realizing you’re a much better sailor than you gave yourself credit for.