 This is the time of year when lots of folks voice their thankfulness in a very public way. They send cards, buy gifts and post on social media. Hell, some people even take out paid advertising.
Yes, cynics who complain all year long about all that’s wrong in their world are suddenly the epitome of humility and gratitude. (I can say this without enmity because I used to be one of them.) I am grateful to have a much more positive outlook on life these days, but I think I am most grateful to get a month-long break from these Negative Nancys’ incessant bitching. SIGH. Nope, I haven’t engaged in any of the public lists of thanks this year. I think I haven’t felt the need because I am privately grateful all year long. I frequently write gratitude lists in my journal, or send short daily prayers of thanks up to my ol’ HP (higher power). I actively count my blessings every day because taking that action plays a major role in keeping me sane, serene and sweet. For realz.
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 Today, I know how damn lucky I am to be happy, joyous and free. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t acknowledge my gratitude for life, the universe and everything in some small way.
I owe my sustained bliss to the tools for living I adopted as a direct result of the ravages alcoholism has wreaked on me and many of my loved ones during the past couple of decades. I was introduced to those tools because of someone else’s problem drinking, then in my 30s, developed a problem of my own that quickly reached critical mass. I am so grateful that I already had a foundation of recovery and knew exactly where to go for help. This Wednesday, Nov. 20, it will be four years since I had my last drink. Four years free of hangovers. Four years out of the abyss and into the sunshine. Four years of gifts that just keep on givin’.  During the past year or so, as I have actively worked on building my freelance writing and media consulting business, I’ve done a LOT of networking.
I’ve been pretty consistent, attending at least a few events and scheduling several individual meetings with prospective clients every month. But I got super busy in August and September, so I kind of slacked off on business development in favor of getting some actual paying work done. I’m now playing catch-up, on a mission to kick ass and ensure I have enough work to keep me busy through the end of the year. Being out and about at networking events again means I’m giving the ol’ elevator speech about who I am and what I do over and over. And over. And over again. It gets better and more polished every time … at least, I hope it does.  During the past few years (not coincidentally, starting around my 40th birthday), I’ve noticed that certain parts of my body have stopped cooperating with me as well as they used to.
Books, menus and my computer screen are a jangled blur without my drugstore reading glasses. If I work out vigorously and don’t stretch first, my back and legs scream at me for at least a week afterward. And I am terrified to stop coloring my hair because I just know it’s all gray under the blonde. Most recently, I was informed that my teeth are going to hell, despite my best efforts. OK, it’s not that bad… parts of my gums are receding. I think the condition is partially a result of genetics and not all my fault, because my mom has the same problem. But there are a few areas of my lower gum that are in pretty bad shape. |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
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