10 Things I’m Grateful For
I know a lot of people have had a hard time finding gratitude in the midst of this strange and difficult year. For me, gratitude is one of the things that has made this year better. When I remember to look for gratitude, I’m able to let go of the fear of the future and the regrets of the past and be present.
In honor of Thanksgiving, here are ten things I’m grateful for right now.
1. Zoom and other video platforms. Having the ability to see and hear my friends and family, to work remotely, to teach, to learn, and to stay connected this year has been priceless. I think about what things would have been like dealing with this even, say, 25 years ago, and I’m crazy grateful. I get to laugh with my friends every Friday night, play bridge, hold a costume party, participate in a talent show, and yes, even share a holiday meal remotely without risking anyone’s health. That’s progress.
2. My neighborhood park. I’m so very grateful that the solution to feeling cooped up and needing some Vitamin D is so close at hand. I’ve lost count of the number of miles I’ve walked around that park since March, but it’s a great many.
3. Grocery delivery. Since I’m in the high-risk category, I’ve tried to eliminate in-person shopping. I’m grateful that I live in an area that is served by a number of grocery delivery services and we’ve been fortunate to have all that we need.
4. Virtual fiber festivals and knitting events. All that teaching and learning? That’s been mostly happening because people in the fiber industry got creative and took their events online. While business isn’t the same, many are managing to stay afloat, and many, many more are benefitting from the opportunities for learning and connection.
5. Content generators. Some of my favorite knitting teachers and bloggers have doubled down and are providing some really amazing content this year through Patreon, YouTube, and other channels. At the top of my long, long list of creators, Franklin Habit is teaching me how to photograph my knits, Patty Lyons is introducing me to a slew of knitterati, and the inestimable Brenda Dayne is back to podcasting. The queen of them all, longtime knit-blogger, author and teacher Stephanie Pearl McPhee has found a way to continue teaching virtually and is teaching me… well, just about everything. As she does.
6. My friends, who have found ways to brighten up each other’s days. In late March I found a bottle of homemade hand sanitizer on my doorstep from a friend who had set up a home still. Last week it was a wine glass that said, “self care.” These little surprises mean a lot.
7. Knitting guilds. Remember those? They’re still around, and it would be a mistake to think of them as outdated or quaint. Most of them have moved their activities online, and that means they’re more accessible to more people than ever before. I had a great time presenting a lecture virtually to the very fine knitters of the North Central Washington Knitters Guild last month. And just the other week I dropped in for a night of trivia with the Knerdy Knitters of the San Fernando Valley (though they’re a knitting guild, some of their events – like the second Thursday trivia nights – are open to anyone).
8. Test knitters. Their work is incredibly valuable to me as a designer in helping me make my patterns clear, understandable, and error-free, even when the path to get there is not always, well … clear, understandable, and error-free. You know who you are, and you’re quite appreciated!
9. My husband and kids, for rolling with all of it. From quarantine birthdays to washing groceries to being nagged to watch how much toilet paper or bandwidth they’re using, they’re darned good sports.
10. Examples of positivity and optimism. Whether it’s someone’s new puppy video or the owner of an Air B&B saying, “No worries, we’ll refund your money, we know you’ll be back the following year!” it helps to see people looking to the future with hope.
I wish a very happy Thanksgiving to you and yours, even though you may not be physically present with those you love this year. Tomorrow night I’ll raise a glass to all of you and declare, “Next year, in person!”
