thirty days with a grateful heart - days twenty five to thirty

days twenty five to thirty - my treasure

I started this gratitude thing at a time in my life that was scary.  And although there have been a lot of scary times in my life, early December was very definitely one of the scariest.  My life and everything I had relied upon and taken for granted for years was in a state of chaos.  

I was afraid.  And although I tried, very, very hard on the outside to act strong, to be strong, the simple fact of the matter is that, on the inside, I was anything but strong.  No, on the inside, I was falling apart.  Piece by piece.

And I think the worst part, at least for me and the fixer in me, was that I didn't know what to do about it.  I didn't know how to change it.  And, if I am honest, deep down, I wasn't sure, really, if I even wanted to change it.  It seemed like the harder I tried, the worse it became, and that was, simply put, just a whole lot of work.

Then Hilary suggested the Gratitude project.  And although I knew it was going to be difficult for me for a myriad of reasons, the least of which was that I wasn't sure I was all that grateful for anything at that point, I decided to try it.

I cried as I wrote the first few.  Those first few were me forcing myself to be grateful, and believe me when I say that those first few were painful for me to write.  Not because I was not grateful, but more because they required that I open not only my eyes to what was around me, but my heart as well.

To unlock the padlock that has been closed around my heart for longer than I can remember.

Then I wrote a few more.  And a few more.  And before I realized it, the gratitudes became less of a project that I'd committed to doing, and more of a journey back to my... joy, because as I wrote them, I began to remember. 

I remembered just exactly what I had to be grateful for. 

The big and the small.  The whos and the whats.  The silly and the serious.   And although it shouldn't have, it surprised me.  But even more than that, it delighted me.  And as my heart began to open, my world began to change.  The scattered pieces of my life fluttering to find their way back home. 

And what I have realized through this process is that my treasure was always right here.  It had not up and left the building like I thought it had.  It was here, in this space, waiting patiently for me to reflect, to recall... to remember. 

All I needed was to open my heart in order to be able to see it.

I'd like to thank those of you who chose to join me on this journey.  I feel truly blessed this season by you and for that I am so very, very grateful.
Next year, I promise you the whole thirty. 

xoxo,
momo

thirty days with a grateful heart - day twenty four

day twenty four - to grandmother's house we go

Because my father was in the Air Force, when I was little, we moved around.  A lot.  Between each move and for almost every summer vacation I can remember when were were stationed in the states, my dad would pack my mom, my sisters and me up in the station wagon and we would make the two or three day drive to Indiana to visit our family.  My parents were the only siblings on both sides of our family that had moved away from Indiana at the time, so the homecoming was always joyous and very, very loud.

I loved this time.  

I loved seeing all our family.  I loved that everyone made time to get together whenever we visited.  I loved the sleep-overs with my cousins and playing dress up in my grandmothers' clothes.  I loved going to church where everyone remembered my parents from when they were small.  I loved the stories and especially the tall tales.  I loved the pillow fights with my grandfather in the living room and learning about yiayia and papou's courtship in the old country.  I loved the kibee and the spanakopita and the bread, oh, how I loved the homemade bread!

There are so many memories, but what I realize most when I look back is how incredibly special these times were.  How lucky I was to have so many cousins, so many aunts and uncles, and that our families were so close even though we lived so far away.   

How lucky I was that even though we lived far away, my parents valued family and made sure that we knew ours.   How lucky I was that all of my grandparents lived for so very long.

But mostly, how lucky I was as a child to be surrounded by so much... love. 

thirty days with a grateful heart - day twenty three

day twenty three - your take

Mostly on this blog, when I write, you are going to get my viewpoint on things.  Not because I don't realize that there are other viewpoints out there, because I do, honestly, I do. 

But, well, this is my blog, right?  So, yea, pretty much if you choose to read, you are going to be subjected to my viewpoint ninety-nine point nine percent of the time.

Sometimes, though, after I write and after I post, you will comment.  And periodically your viewpoint is somewhat different than mine.  And periodically your viewpoint is considerably different than mine.  But always, your viewpoints give me pause.  Because I do read them, sometimes more than once, and I do deliberate on them, sometimes probably more than I should. 

Regardless, they allow me step back for a second and see the world from your perspective. 

It is eye opening.  And kind of scary sometimes how I can tend to be somewhat single minded.  But refreshing at the same time, to be assured that we are not all cookie cutter versions of one another.

And that makes me pretty happy.  And even more willing to continue to put myself out there like I do, because I realize I am growing.   And just maybe, you are too.

So, thank you, you commenters, you.  I am truly grateful for your take.

thirty days with a grateful heart - day twenty two

day twenty two - you get me

For Christmas this year, Big J wrote me a letter that begins like this:

... In the spirit of working to fully understand and 'get you' ...

The letter was attached to a gift that I may choose to share when it is finished at some later point, but I'd like you to know that this gift, this particular gift, it was a bit of a stretch for Big J. 

Not because Big J is a terrible gift giver, because believe me, he is quite the opposite.  Big J is, in fact, an incredibly generous and creative gift giver, to both me and to the littles.  Many times over the years, he has surprised me with how he just knows - just exactly what I would like, just exactly what I would want, just exactly what would mean something special to me. 

No, this gift was a stretch for other reasons, more personal reasons.  Prior to Christmas, no matter which words I used to explain my reasons why, they just never seemed to be the right ones.  In fact, I'm loathe to admit that we even argued about this gift.  It caused confusion.  It caused hurt feelings.  It caused tears.

And then Christmas.  And then my letter.  And then my gift.

And then my realization that as much as I might tell him that he doesn't... the truth is, Big J does - get me.  He might not always understand me, and I guess that is to be expected because I don't always understand myself, but he does, most definitely, get me.

And really, what more could I possibly want?

I'm grateful for you today, Big J.  Not for the gift.  Although, believe me, I am way excited about that!  And not for the gift you gave me last week.  Which I am just as excited about!

No, today, I am simply grateful for you.

xo,
momo

thirty days with a grateful heart - day twenty one

day twenty one - the examined life

Socrates once said that 'The unexamined life is not worth living.'  So, in honor of tuesday, toeday, as well as day twenty one of my gratitude project, I would like to share with you just why I am grateful for... therapy.

10.  As we all know, I am a thinker.  Ok, let's be honest here, I am an overthinker.  Periodically, I will use this blog to quiet some of the ideas that are swirling around in my head making all kindsa racket, but once in awhile there is something I need to talk about that even I realize might just not be all that appropriate for the blog.  Incredible, I know, considering I've discussed just about everything you can possibly imagine here including some things that I probably should not have - but well, it is true. 

9.  Therapy is teaching me that that point in and of itself is ok.  I can talk about what I need to talk about and if people judge, they judge.  I used to be worried all the time about hurting people's feelings and possibly saying something that might affect their perception of me or make them think that I might actually be judging them, but the truth is - I think people should be happy, whatever that means for them - so, as long as I use gentleness and respect in my opinions, we should all be good.

8.  It is sinking in.  Slowly.  And I am changing.  Slowly. 

7.  One of the things we have been talking about the last few weeks is very interesting.  In fact, it is so interesting that I wish I could tell you about it, but suffice it to say - its really, really interesting.  And all that interestingness aside, I believe I might be actually learning something and well, that's the point, right?

6.  One of the comforting things about this interesting (kinda secret) topic is that even though my therapist is a man, he is willing to see my perspective.  Not that he necessarily agrees with me, mind you, but he hears what I am saying and he validates my feelings.  Insert big sigh of relief here.  I mean, really.  Having a man look at you and not say, I think you might be just a little bit (insert whatever adjective you want) crazy, is well, like I said before - comforting.

5.  My therapist is nice.  He was referred by a friend I respect and he is just, well, really nice.  And, surprisingly, he is the first therapist that has ever asked me to analyze my family history and dynamics.  In fact, the other day, we were discussing my parent's perceptions of me as a child and I realized something that in all the therapy I've done before, I've never realized. 

4.  It was like... huge.  Believe me on this one.

3.  I meet with my therapist on Monday afternoons.  The first couple of weeks, I actually took a shower and washed my hair before going because I wanted him to see that I was taking the process seriously.  After a few weeks, however, I got comfortable with him (and his dog, Suzette, who likes to sit in my lap periodically) and began showing up as the real momo.  You know, the one that wears workout clothes albeit lululemon all day?  What a relief that was!  You know, to actually be me - not the me I thought he'd want to see? 

2.   Back in November or whenever it was, prior to the gratitude project, when I wrote my happy, happy, happy blog post, I was not really happy, happy, happy.   I was actually as far from happy as I could have been.  I cannot talk about why exactly, but I was.  Again, trust me.  If we are being honest, I was probably more like mad, MAD, (insert even more adjectives) MAD.  However, today, after a few months of therapy, I can honestly say that I am well on my way to that happy, happy, happy place and it is light years from where I was before therapy.

1.  The view from here is pretty nice.

thirty days with a grateful heart - day twenty

day twenty - His gift

For unto us a Child is born,    

Unto us a Son is given;  

And the government will be upon His shoulder.  

And His name will be called  

Wonderful,

Counselor,

Mighty God,

Everlasting Father,

Prince of Peace. 

Isaiah 9:6

Oh, so, so, grateful. 

thirty days with a grateful heart - day nineteen

day nineteen - wishes do come true

I got an early Christmas present today. 

A present that isn't really so much for me, and yet it is totally for me. 

I would like to tell you what it is, but I do not want to jinx it.  Not quite yet.

Suffice it to say it is something I have talked about for years.

Something I have thought about.

Something I have worried about.

Something I have nagged about.

Something I have gotten angry about.

Something I have cried about.

Something I have prayed about.

Something I have so refused to give up on that it has oftentimes created sadness and yet - the bottom line is - something I so believe in that I cannot let it go.

I believe. 

And when you are relentless in what you believe... sometimes wishes?

Well, sometimes wishes do come true.