The depths of winter, and gratitude

Now over a year since I've posted here, what a year it was. Knowing that the only constant is change doesn't make a lot of change an easy experience. Not that change is easy; even desired change has it's challenges, and undesired change can be downright frightening, or at least, uncomfortable.

The Northwest is now in the depths of winter, but thankfully, the temperatures here don't compare to those back east. I count my blessings. In fact, our recent cold front came with gorgeous sunny days, so it's hard to complain. We had snow at Christmas -- a first in many years. Life stands more still when it snows, and everything grows quiet.

The first day of winter is bittersweet, with dreary winter weather a promise for the months ahead, but the days also grow longer and the nights become shorter. We won't notice this at first; the days still feel short, and when the skies are gray, it feels darker still. Sometimes, the weather is a reflection of my mood. Or my mood is a reflection? It's hard to tell which came first, but I know my moods are lighter when the skies are lighter.

Letting go of gloom, or... 

...gloomsday gratitude? :)

Today was a mixed bag of rain and gray skies, with a few sun breaks. I graciously and gratefully worked from home, in my cozy basement office, looking out at the evergreen flora. No makeup, no bra, sweats and slippers. Now that's a picture, and one I wouldn't post.

And, grateful is where it's at. When the gloom sets in, gratitude is a way out. Being in service to others is another, and the two are intertwined. Helping someone can be a reminder of all I have to be grateful for. For the many gifts I and so many in my world are fortunate to have. When doing for others isn't an option, though, I try to stop what I'm doing and remember all my good.

Nightmare, a younger version

Some days, my good is as simple as my statement above -- working from home, in comfort. I have a job. I have a home. How lucky am I? Not everyone can say that. I'm warm. I'm dry. I have more clothes than I can wear, more food than I can reasonably eat at one time. I have hot water and hot beverages.

Yes, 2017 was a year of change. We lost the last of our three cats, my precious white Nightmare, to cancer at just over 18. Lucky for him, he didn't know he was sick until the last week or so of his little life. He was a big presence, with paws that won't easily be filled. Forrest and I then escaped the emptiness with a cross-country drive, filling the void with landscapes.

Grand Canyon, cross-country drive

We saw family and friends, and explored destinations from Death Valley to New Orleans to the Gulf Coast. Forrest lost one of his oldest friends to suicide. I got a job, and then another job, meeting and working with amazing people. And I continued freelancing and coaching. We sailed to islands, hiked, and enjoyed a lot of togetherness that we no longer take for granted. I spent an entire week with 12 family members I only loosely know--but love--on a cruise ship to and from Alaska. And that's just part of it.

Hubbard Glacier, Alaska

I count my blessings. Every day, I write those things I'm grateful for and send them off to my gratitude partner to be witnessed. Sometimes I'm grateful for the lessons in the journey, those things I'm not proud of, the things that hurt, or anger, or give me pause. Sometimes, it's the little things -- I got through my day with no harm done. Every day, I give thanks I'm alive, I'm healthy, I have a partner who loves me, a home, family, people who care. I have learned a lot about myself over the last couple years, with un- and under-employment, and ongoing challenges. Strife is a good teacher. Even my birthday, which every year I have higher hopes for, is my opportunity to dive deep into the depths, and understand myself better. New insights, new awareness, more self-compassion.

Yes, gratitude. I'm so grateful to be here. So grateful to be able to write here. So grateful for the journey, even in the depths of winter.