Fall seduces me every year--the way darkness hugs the days more tightly, leaves transform into fiery bursts of color, and air kisses my skin with blessed coolness, a relief after muggy summer days. I pull out the candles, the pretty scarves, the hiking boots and knitted caps, and revel in the season’s romantic offerings, from walking down a leaf-strewn trail to snuggling by a fire with my beloved. It’s always been fitting to me that we celebrate the holiday of Thanksgiving during this period of quieting before the pause of winter, when we become more inward. My soul is fed from a thousand springs, and I’m grateful to be alive, blessed with so much love and support from others.

Part of my gratefulness stems from where I am now. I’ve been swinging with multiple bats for so many years because of difficult personal and work relationships now shed. My load is lighter and I can finally focus more fully on what I’ve wanted to do my whole life: write. Like the David Byrne song “Once in a Lifetime,” I’ve pondered, “How did I get here?” but find that too much looking backward isn’t good for my spirit. I’m committed to being present, staying in today, and living my life fully, with love and care. That I can even do this speaks to the many reasons I am grateful. I’m sharing some of those reasons with you, dear reader, who by reading and supporting our Barrett-Sister blog are another recipient of my gratitude!

I’m grateful for my family, who have journeyed this life with me. We’ve fought together, and loved together, shared grief and many laughs. I love you.

I’m grateful for my Beloved Jon, my anam cara. And I must thank Cupid for shooting his arrow at us during a dinner when we were stepping onto new paths in our lives and realized we were perfect for each other.

I’m grateful for the people who are there for me. This includes people I’m not aware of, who step forward in a crisis to help because, unknown to me, they care for me. And for my friends, who cradled me during my separation and divorce. You know who you are. You opened your homes to me 24/7, fed me, and watched escapist TV with me. I am forever grateful.

I am grateful for my teachers--school teachers, professors, coaches, yoga instructors, therapists, priests, elders--for your patient mentoring.

I am grateful for my pets, who trusted me, loved me, tried to keep me from harm, curled up with me at night, and let me hold them when they passed. They taught me about unconditional love.

I am grateful for children, for the laughter that lightens my heart, and their unselfconscious expressiveness. I, too, would like to have the occasional meltdown in a mall or restaurant.

I am so grateful for wild things--for the gardens around my home, the woods beyond our property, the smell of roses, honeysuckle, apple blossoms, lavender, rosemary, basil, and other aromatic herbs and flowers. For all the creatures that dwell in our mountains, sing outside my window in the morning, and sometimes in the darkest hours of night.

I am grateful for my simple home. It keeps me cool and warm, as needed, and is lovely.

I am grateful for peanut butter, chocolate, and cheese, and every other food that both pleases and nourishes me!

I am grateful for all those things that ease my body, for lotions that smell terrific and soothe my skin, for bath salts that relax my muscles, for candles and incense to take the edges off my moods.

I am grateful for comfortable, stylish clothing and shoes that make me smile to wear and touch. Dressing well makes me happy.

And, last but not least, I am grateful for myself! There is no escape from me (unless I decide to end the relationship) and I’ve tried to be a good steward of me, especially when life becomes exceedingly difficult. It’s challenging to make self-care a priority in the midst of grief and trauma, but like the diligent worker bee I am, I plant seeds for better times, even it feels like I’m planting them in barren soil. I eat well, exercise, and drink a lot of water. I don’t give myself a choice in the matter; I just do it.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten things and people to thank, but my gratitude goes out to everything named and unnamed that helped me along this half-century of life. Thank you.

Read Give and Take by Diane

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