If I had to pick what I’m most grateful for this Wednesday, and I do otherwise this post makes no sense, I would have to say I’m most grateful for my ability to read and write.  I take both those skills for granted, but I really shouldn’t.  There are a lot of people who can do neither easily, either because of a problem like dyslexia, or because they don’t have access to the education that would help them learn to read and write.   I can’t imagine my life if I couldn’t read and write, so I’m very grateful that I can.

To tell the truth, I can’t remember when I couldn’t read.  I taught myself to read out of a kindergarten primer sometime just after I turned four.  It was the teacher’s edition.  Even though I have large gaps in my memory of my childhood, I still remember that book.  It was yellow and there was a blond haired girl in a blue dress and a dark haired boy on the cover.  I’m still not sure how things clicked, but I was reading way beyond my grade level by first grade.  I also read very fast and retain most of what I read.  I confounded my teachers in elementary school.

I also can hardly remember when I wasn’t making up stories and writing.  I wrote my first story, which my mother kept, and which I inherited when she died, when I was six.  I also illustrated it.  The story showed I had a lively imagination and a way with words.  It also quite accurately predicted I wouldn’t be able to draw a straight line to save my life.  I’ve been writing, in one form or another, ever since that first story.

Two of the greatest gifts my parents and family gave me were a love of reading and encouragement in my writing.  My whole family read and trips to the library were frequent.  My family still asks me how my writing is going and when my novel is coming out.  I came from a literary group and I’m grateful for that as well.  My lifelong love of words and books is in my genes and I count myself very lucky in that regard.

This Wednesday I want to talk about something that has made me extremely grateful lately, sleep.  I’m a dedicated insomniac from way back.  It isn’t uncommon for me to function on four hours of sleep a night.  Thankfully, my insomnia tends to go in cycles, so I do get more sleep on a fairly regular basis.  I don’t, however, fall asleep easily, and I don’t stay asleep well.  Sleep and I have always had a somewhat uneasy relationship.

Lately, however, I’ve been sleeping marvelously.  I fall asleep easier, and I sleep more deeply.  I’m sure some of my new sleeping prowess is attributable to the fact that I’m feeling less stress in my life.  Another component surely must be that I’m exercising more regularly and am definitely more physically fit.   I think moving to the new house helped too.  There’s less noise, so I tend to sleep more deeply.

Those people who fall asleep at the drop of a hat or who only have the very occasional bout of sleeplessness might not understand how wonderful it is not to worry about sleeping.  For me, however, who has had bouts with sleeplessness since I was a child, it’s wonderful.

On this Wednesday, I’m very grateful to be sleeping peacefully and well.

I met him at a party.

It was magical.  We laughed, we talked, we cuddled and giggled and fell ever more in love.  I felt all the things I’d always wanted to feel.  I felt beautiful and special and desired.  I was the center of his attention, he laughed at my jokes, listened when I talked, and clearly found me attractive.  I was all the things I’d always wanted to be and he was all the things I’d always hoped I’d find.

Oddly enough, there was no hesitation.  I didn’t worry he’d hurt me, or leave me, or find someone else he liked better.  I, who never trusts anyone easily, trusted completely and without reservation.  I knew my heart and my head were safe in his hands.  I knew it would all be o.k.

Sadly, eventually we had to part.  He went back to where ever it is that dreams go.  I woke up, showered and went to work.

I had the dream last night.  I always dream vividly, but this one was especially vivid.  It’s hung with me all day today, mostly because of the pure happiness I felt in the dream.  I was the one someone loved.  I was desired and wanted and adored.  I’ve never experienced that in my real life, not without a lot of bad stuff thrown into the mix.  To experience that heady joy was wonderful.  To experience it without any fear or anxiety was priceless.

When I woke up, I almost felt as if I’d lost something.  Like everyone else in the world I want to be loved.  I’m enough of a romantic, still, to hope that I’ll find the perfect man for me and build a life with him.  As every year wears on, however, I start thinking that won’t happen.  I start thinking that my life will be a solo effort.  I’m o.k. with that because I have to be.  I’m o.k. with that because I’d rather be alone than settle.

I don’t know who dream man was, but I hope someday I meet him.  Just once, I’d like to experience in real life what I experienced in that dream.

This Wednesday I’m grateful that its Fall.  I love this season, it has always been my favorite.  I love the crispness in the air, and snuggling back into warm blankets and cosy sweaters.  I love the smell of wet earth and wet leaves.  I love how the sky becomes a clear, brilliant blue without a cloud to be seen.

We also can’t forget the trees.  The colors are so beautiful this year.  Rich reds and brilliant bronzes and sunshiny yellows and golds.  The trees are really putting on a show and I love driving along some of the more rural roads and just being dazzled by all the wonderful colors.

Fall is always when I feel renewed and reborn.  I’m not a Summer person.  I’ve never been one to want to go lie in the sun.  Too much heat just makes me lethargic and depressed.  Once the air gets a tinge of coolness and crispness, however, I’m full of energy and raring to go.  Fall is my season.

This Wednesday, I’m grateful I live where there are four seasons.  Every year I get to see the world change color and prepare to go to sleep for the Winter.  I love this time of year,  and I’m grateful I get to enjoy it.

One of the other blogs for which I write, A Frugal Housewife, has started something called Kick the Habit Monday.  The idea is to pick a habit that you want to break and commit to getting rid of that habit.   You can read more about how the whole things works on that blog.

I have spent part of my day today pondering which habit I should commit to breaking.  I have several habits that I think it would be helpful to break, but there was one that really stood out to me.  A few weeks ago, I wrote a post on this blog about my habit of procrastinating.  I pointed out that procrastination was a way of delaying good things in my life and a way of avoiding tasks that probably wouldn’t be that difficult if I did them right away.

I know procrastination is not helpful and it’s a habit I’ve wanted to be rid of for a long time.  Kick the Habit Monday seems like a good time to start working on changing my ways.

I have never really had any sort of chronic illness.  The closest I came was earlier this year before we figured out I was in afib.  I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t breathe and everything was a chore.  I didn’t handle it well.

This Wednesday, I’m grateful that I have the ability to run and jump and move when I want to do so and without pain.  If I want to get up and walk somewhere I simply get up and walk.  If I want to put in an exercise tape and work my muscles or challenge my lungs and heart I can.  I can sit, stand, run, walk, skip, jump or collapse in a heap.  My muscles and tendons respond when I ask them to respond.

There are a lot of people who don’t have the luxury that I have.  There’s a woman in my office who has rheumatoid arthritis.  She is in constant pain.  Every movement hurts her and even when she sits still she often has pain.  She can’t sleep, get dressed, watch a movie or eat a meal without pain.  I can’t imagine what that must be like.  I’m a coward enough to hope I never know.

For those of us who have healthy bodies that can do what we ask them to do, it’s pretty easy to forget that a lot of people don’t have that luxury.  Today, I just wanted to take a minute to acknowledge how lucky I am.  My body may not have come from the factory in mint condition but, all in all, it works pretty well.

And that, on this Wednesday, is something for which I am very grateful.

I had a plan.

Really, I did.

When I started this blog, I fondly imagined that I would have so much to say that the problem wouldn’t be starting writing, it would be stopping.  I had wanted to have my own venue for so long, a venue in which I could write whatever I liked, that I really thought there would be no issue with keeping the blog posts flowing.

I know, I should have known better.  After all I write blogs for work.  I know how demanding writing a blog can be, and how sometimes it feels like there is no end to the need for posts.  It’s how I imagine newspaper reporters feel about the press that prints the paper.  It’s there, like some ravenous monster, always hungry for more.  Sometimes that’s how I feel about this blog.

It isn’t necessarily that I’m at a loss for subjects.  Lord knows my life could provide me with an infinite number of blog posts.  It’s more, I think, that sometimes I just lack the motivation to write.  When I started writing here, I hoped that it would be a sort of therapy and it would help me make discoveries about myself.  One of the things that I’ve discovered is there are more things that I’m reluctant to discuss than I knew.  I’m not sure how I feel about that yet.  My intention was always to write about everything and let it all hang out.  Discovering that I may not be ready to do that was a bit of shock.

For those who read here, I just want to ask you to bear with me.  This is a work in progress.  I’m not sure where it’s going yet, or what it will end up being.  It’s kind of like the rest of my life.  There are a lot of possibilities, but no one clear path yet.

I do hope you stick around though.  Even though the path may be less than clear, I promise it will be an interesting journey.

It sounds kind of simplistic to say it, but this Wednesday the thing I’m most grateful for is the fact that I’m here.  I don’t mean here in this house, or here in this town, I mean here at all.  The odds against my making it to this point were pretty steep at times.  To have gotten here and to still be here and happy and successful to boot is something for which I am extremely grateful.

The odds against me getting to this point started at birth.  I was born with seven holes between the chambers of my heart.  I was one sick little kid.   They had to wait until I was four for me to be strong enough to withstand the surgery.  This was 1973.  Kids my age routinely died from surgeries less complicated than mine.  I came through mine with flying colors and thrived.

Fast forward to junior high and high school where I was being sexually abused by a teacher I trusted.  It was a dark time.  My Mom and my biological Dad were in the process of what would become their final break-up, but it was happening in slow motion.  I was an awkward kid looking for love and acceptance and being betrayed by those I should have been able to trust the most.  I hurt all the time.  Yet somehow I got through it.  I considered suicide, but I didn’t do it.  I lived.

Move a few more years down the timeline and we hit my bad year.  The darkness and hopelessness of that year is indescribable.  I kept going under and drowning in gloom but something always made me claw my way back to the surface.  I’m still not sure what that was.  Sometimes I think it was just me being stubborn.  Whatever it was, I’m grateful for it.  That quality kept me going when everything in me was saying give in and sink.

If someone had told me then that I’d be where I am now, I’d have laughed hysterically.  I won’t say my life is perfect, but it is good.  I’m learning and growing and best of all I have a chance to accomplish the rest of what I want to accomplish before I’m done with this life.

And for that, on this Wednesday, I am very grateful.