I am finding this all quite interesting. People’s genuine curiousity, amazement, wierded outness, desire to share and even the complete silence. Actually the complete silence from some is particularly interesting. It takes some doing to put yourself out there. And I don’t mean by blogging. I mean by being honest. And the question on some people’s minds it seems, is why would you. Which has to make me consider. Why am I doing this? Honestly, I was, am, a spoilt brat. With so much to be grateful for, but not honestly seeing it.  Why, why not, why me, why not me, why here, why him, why them, why now. A favourite quote of mine ‘be still. cease your relentless partcipation’ comes to mind. I know I do that. Especially before. Kept myself ever so busy doing ever so important things with ever so important people so I wouldn’t have to spend too much time with me. Now I am in this wonderful place with this wonderful opportunity to simply celebrate what is. And still I so often think about what I haven’t got, not what I have. What is with that. I am a spoilt brat. So, the grateful stuff is my being still for a moment. The other stuff is me experimenting and not being anonymous anymore. Honesty is good. Sharing is therapeutic. Not trying to be clever is essential.


I told a friend about my blog today. I saw her think about it a bit. Then she asked, isn’t it odd to have your life exposed for others to see. I responded with it’s me who’s doing the exposing. It’s my choice to share. I suppose it is a bit confronting for some, but for some reason I’ve always been comfortable exposing myself. And any comments about advertising agency parties as a reply to this post will be ignored. By exposing I mean being generous in my response to questions. Definitely over generous.  I’m not really sure why. Maybe I’m just self absorbed. I’m hoping it’s because I have nothing to hide.


Honestly, that’s what Kate did when she read my first post.  Not a derisive snort, but one that precedes giggles and outright laughter.  My newly formalised fragile sense of self took one huge knock.  It got worse.  Cute.  She says. You are so serious, it’s cute. Then she checked out my ‘about’ and then post ‘one’.  Ohhhhh, you’re posting about what you’re grateful for.  Boring was implied tonally.  I thought I had made that clear in my ramblings.  Obviously not.  So now you know. Then she moved on, leaving her mother in tatters.  Just for a moment.  Stuff it.  I decided to tell her how much I love her instead.  I am grateful for my beautiful daughter.  I am grateful for the fact that she loves me.  I stalked her tumblr and found this.  And she doesn’t realise it yet, but she’s cute and serious too.


I’m not good at being a statistic.  As in … another woman trying to find herself by sharing her musings on a blog.  But realising that’s not the statistic I hate being, it’s actually one of my own doing, that of another person fearful of starting something in case they don’t do it well.  I’m 45 and realised I’m finally accepting I’m good enough. And am happy to be just like all those others grateful for life by sharing an image a day of something I am grateful for.  It’s a wonderful way of focussing your energies. It is wonderful to realise how limiting it is  to only share one thing. Just today I realised how good I am at talking and not so much at listening. How awful.  I was still for a bit.  The recurring sound in my ears was like a caress from the wind. just listen just listen just listen. I keep telling mysellf tomorrow will be better, wait until you have something to share, who are you and who would want to read you. Today I just listened and stopped telling myself why not.  I had already missed the boat in terms of order, as in starting on the first of the year and ending 365 days later. I love order. Or symmetry. And control. And thats enough to stop me. But today, for a moment I just let go and embraced that now is as good as any a time. Right now I am good enough.  And right now is good enough. So January 16 2012 is my new day.