Having never been one for goal-setting, the
end of the year appeals to me more as a time for reflecting on where my life is
at than as a start point for setting goals that may or may not be achievable in
the next 12 months. As John Lennon so eloquently noted, life is what happens to
you while you’re busy making other plans. (In the spirit of goal-setting, perhaps
I should pick 2016 as the year that I finally get that truth tattooed on me. I've been talking about it for long enough.)
So I got to reflecting this morning. And I
guess it’s not surprising that my thoughts turned to all the things I’m
grateful for, given that I’m currently sitting here in my comfy home in the
Managua heat, still in love after 19 years, practically giddy to have recovered
from two herniated discs in my neck this past spring, and fresh off a terrific
two weeks of travelling Nicaragua with a couple of our grandkids.
Herewith, a list of personal gratitudes to herald
the end of one year and the start of another. It’s by no means a complete list –
just the things that popped into my head today. I wish for all of you that you
find gratitude in the things that have gone well, and the resilience to get
through the things that haven’t. Today, I’m grateful…
·
For having been a teenage
mother, because what that translates into at the age of 59 is the chance to
hang out in Nicaragua with two teenage grandsons when I am still fit and
healthy enough to do adventurous things with them like hiking up volcanoes. Not
to mention the great joy of having had more than 41 years of being a mother,
and a ton of quality grandchild time for almost 17 years
now.
·
For having been born and raised
in a country with a high-quality, accessible education system, decent salaries,
and publicly funded health care, because growing up in a country like that is a
lifelong gift that gives you a giant leg up in this world no matter what happens after that.
·
But at the same time I'm also grateful for the opportunity to
experience life in countries with none of that, where I have seen that even
downsides can have upsides, and that countries where people have no choice but
to figure out their own survival are capable of great innovation, adaptation, resilience and compassion.
·
To be part of a vast extended
family that definitely gets fed up with each other from time to time but fundamentally
understands that family is forever.
·
For whatever mysterious forces
drove me to leave my really great private-sector job as a journalist back in
2004 and venture into non-profit work, where people’s stories still make up the
bulk of my work but in ways that make me feel much more connected to meaningful
change.
·
I am grateful that a lot of
people are scared to live in Honduras, because that meant that the first Cuso International post I tried for back in 2011 had sat vacant for the two years
prior to that, which in turn meant that my basic tourist-level Spanish passed
muster and I got the post. And a whole other world opened up to me.
·
For a four-month strike in 2002
at the Times Colonist that at the time almost gave me a nervous breakdown, but
ultimately revealed to me that I could easily live on half my wages. That
revelation set me free.
·
For all the people who have
opened up their homes, pets and possessions to Paul and I since we become “homeless”
in 2012, welcoming us to care for their stuff while they are vacationing and making
it possible for us to live as gypsies. (Well, except for our 2002 PT Cruiser.
Come on, even a gypsy needs a caravan.)
·
Grateful to my parents and my piano
teacher Kaye Wilson for hammering discipline into me at a young age, because I
have put that to use in so many ways over the years, most recently to be able
to learn Spanish as well as a new instrument (the accordion) that’s small
enough to accompany me in my wandering.
·
For being a sickly kid who
experienced being teased and judged, because that has made me into someone who
never takes her health for granted and feels a kinship with anyone who has
experienced being an outsider. And there’s a lot of us.
·
For all the times I failed,
felt my heart break, stumbled, erred. Failure has taught me how to get back up
again, and freed me from the nameless dread that gets in your way out of fear
that you might fail.
·
I’m grateful that even before I
knew that the man of my dreams needed to be someone who could help my youngest
daughter with math, embrace cheap travel and a life of uncertainty, and be a
kind and patient grandfather to my then-unborn grandchildren, I found my way to
just such a man. Here’s to many more years together, Paul.
·
For whatever it is in my
genetics that led me to be a person who can’t hold onto resentments and
disappointments for very long. Life’s too short to be bitter. Happy 2016,
everyone.