If I ever start grousing about anything, remind me of this, please. Today as I sat to write it crossed my mind that -
I love my life. Now that I’ve stated that fact, I’m trying to enumerate the reasons why, but it doesn’t bear too much introspection. I have my share of heartbreaks, some of them immense, but my psyche doesn’t let me dwell there. I am a positive person, despite the heartbreaks, and despite the occasional cynicism that lurks deep inside. My life doesn’t contain many great luxuries, and I work every day. I don’t have time to do many of the things I long to do more of…travel, paint, create, visit with friends. But that’s a good thing because that leaves me some attainable aspirations.
My life is rich and full. I have good friends, family and a job I love. I learn new things on a daily basis, which keeps life exciting. I have an avocation that is fulfilling and challenging at the same time. I have enough money that I don’t have to worry about the necessities of life or my ability to pay my way. I learned long ago to count my blessings, and I do.
My paternal grandmother defied the commonly held stereotypes of her day. Most of what she did probably just came naturally to her…she just had to do it, so she did. I'll save Gram’s story for another day. You'll like it. I like to think that I have a lot of her in me. She accomplished much, withstood much hardship, succeeded in a man’s world and maintained a positive attitude. She was a role model. All of this studying ‘why’ is wearisome. ‘Why not?’ is a better question. I love my life.