30 Days of Gratitude

Isn’t it so great when a new goal happens to line up with an important date? Like, say, the first of the month?

Since November is associated with Thanksgiving, I’ve decided, not for the first time, to keep a gratitude journal, but this time to make it public. Y’know, for accountability.

I’ve always fallen on the pessimistic side; somehow, I’ve managed to train myself to look for the bad, and I succeed admirably. I need to start looking on the flip side, and start focusing on what I do have, while I have it. If the past few months have shown me anything, it’s that things disappear in an instant. What you take for granted one day, the next is just gone.

So. Three things I’m grateful for. The goal is to pick things, daily, for the whole month. The other goal is to stop beating myself up if I can’t follow through every day. And the third goal is to follow through anyway.

My friends.

I don’t see you all nearly enough. A part of it is growing up and dealing with responsibilities.

A part of it is location. No longer are my friends within a few mile radius. Hell, some of you aren’t even on this continent.

But now, more than ever, I see the importance in preserving and maintaining these relationships. Life gets in the way, but I don’t want that to become the status quo.

My dogs.

Whenever I make these lists, I often cheat by listing my dogs repeatedly. Sometimes collectively, fsometimes individually. But that’s just because I’m always grateful to, and for, them.

Garnet, Carter, Ziggy, Bear. Each so important to me, and each representing something so different. I recently said that their shorter life spans are the price we pay for loving them. It hurts to lose them. But it’s a price I would, and will, pay over and over again.

Myself.

It took the better part of a decade to get back to liking myself. I always thought it was… ironic that I was happiest while living in a place I hated. Now I realize that I was happy simply because I was aware. I knew what I had, when I had it.

Sometimes, I write about how low I’ve felt over the last few years. Trying to never go into so much detail to turn people off. Terrified to share, because sharing means opening up, and opening up means vulnerability. And being vulnerable can mean getting hurt.

Is this why I became my own worst enemy? How badly could someone hurt me if I hurt myself first? Do people even want to hear about what I think or feel?

This is often my thought process when trying to come up with a post. What will people think of it, of me? Each judgement cuts me, even though they’re mostly in my head. So I change things from how I want them, just to appease others.

I am a work in progress. One who’s better when surrounded by and supported by the right people. But I need to learn to separate my worth from the worth others place upon me. As the saying goes, their thoughts about me are none of my business. And, at the end of the day, those people aren’t even here. It’s on me to create the environment I want to exist in.

Sometimes, that might mean doing or saying something that people may not agree with, or like. It means living for me. Doing the things that make me happy, as that responsibility lies with no one else.

Criticism is not the end of the world. It’s a way to grow. And I shouldn’t shy away from it out of fear.