« Older It’s Gratitude, Dude! Newer »

Thanks For Hope

Monday, September 7th, 2009 by Alyice

On Sept. 4, 2009, the U.S. Labor Department announced that since the recession “officially” started back in December of 2007, 14.9 million Americans have become unemployed with more expected before our economy bounces back.

I have been reluctant to admit this publicly, but I have been one of those Americans affected by the economy—and it stings. In an effort to “trim the fat” companies have started doing more things “in house” and letting go of anything that doesn’t help bring an immediate profit or somehow contribute to their immediate needs—like writing services and ad revenues. On top of that, the consumers who would normally purchase my e-books and crafts haven’t had the surplus money to do so. I’ve been struggling to keep my business afloat and feeling like a failure every step of the way.

Nothing stings more than working hard to prove yourself in the industry only to feel like you’re starting all over again. Nothing stings more than bringing in a steady income only to find yourself on the “hit and miss” end of things again. And nothing stings more than applying for regular jobs in your area only to be turned down again and again—talk about a blow to your self-esteem.

I’ve been beating myself up; constantly asking myself questions like “What more could I do?”, “What could I change?”, “What could I improve?” and of course, “What’s wrong with me?” For as long as the recession has been around, I’ve watched my business decline at a steady and alarming rate and nothing I’ve done to change the outcome has helped.

You’d think that knowing others in the industry—those with multi-million dollar budgets and experts on staff—haven’t been able to beat the recession would make it easier for me to accept the fact that “it’s not me, it’s the economy”. But it hasn’t.

On some level, I realize that while I will always have room to improve and grow, the real problem lies not in my talents, my determination, or my work ethics but in the reality of our economy. On some level, I know that the only way to survive this recession is to keep pushing forward, to not give up hope, and to believe that things will get better. But when you’re constantly beating your head against the wall, fighting for the crumbs, it’s tough.

I’m a worker-bee. I like to work. I enjoy helping others. I get pleasure from knowing that, in some small way, something I’ve worked hard on has helped another’s business improve and grow. I get pleasure in knowing that something I created with my own two hands adorns the home of another—and brings joy to the recipient. And I get pleasure in knowing that the money I’ve earned has made life easier for my husband and my kids.

And yet, despite the harsh reality of my business’ profit and loss statement, or my apparent unemployability in the traditional job market, I have not given up hope. Hope sustains me. Hope carries me. Hope gives me strength. Hope says that all is not lost. Hope says that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Hope says that we will overcome this recession and be stronger and better because of it.

So today, I am grateful for the hope that still lives in me—and in you.

Give thanks…

Posted in It's Gratitude, Dude! | 3 Comments »

Thanks For My Eyesight

Monday, August 31st, 2009 by Alyice

I just got through watching an episode of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, in which a photographer was in danger of losing his eyesight for good. Determined to get the most out of the vision he had left, he set out to take photographs of all the beauty around him—even at the expense of his health. He said that if all he was going to be able to see is darkness then he wanted his memories to be of something beautiful and pleasant, not of the war he covered.

It was at that point I felt this overwhelming sense of gratitude for my own eyesight. Sometimes I get so annoyed with having to wear glasses that I wish for perfect vision—or at least the guts and funds to remove my astigmatism with lasek eye surgery. Sometimes, I just want to wake up in the morning and not have to reach for a pair of glasses. But at that moment, I realized that imperfect vision is far better than no vision at all.

Think about it. What would the world be like if all of a sudden all you saw was darkness?

What if you could never again watch white, fluffy clouds gracefully float across the sky, forming various shapes, figures, and scenes? What if you could never see the smile on your children’s faces? What if you could never see colors, or textures, or diversity? What if you could never look into your loved one’s eyes again? What if you could never paint another painting, or sew another quilt, or build another craft? What if you could never see the cinematography in another film? What if all you saw was darkness?

Our lives are enriched every day by the sights we see. I can’t imagine never having my sight, and hope to never have to experience such a loss. So yes, today I am grateful for my less than 20/20 vision.

Give thanks…

Posted in It's Gratitude, Dude! | Comments Off

Thanks For The Little Things

Friday, August 28th, 2009 by Alyice

Yesterday afternoon, we dropped our son off at college, said our good-byes, and commenced to make the long drive home. This morning, I woke up in his room—where I had fallen asleep holding his pillow and looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his wall—feeling his absence.

I tried desperately not to call him, but by mid-afternoon I couldn’t contain myself. I called his cell, but there was no answer so I left a message. Then I dropped him a really quick email that simply said, “How was your first night away from home? Did you eat breakfast? Are you doing okay?” So far, I haven’t heard back from him. I suspected I wouldn’t as he’s away for the ROTC camp-out, but I just needed to reach out to him—to let him know that I love him and that I am thinking of him.

This is the first time he’s been so far away from home and for so long. He’s 18 years old; a man in the sight of the legal system and a college student to everyone else. But to me, he’s still my baby boy, and always will be.

It’s hard to let him grow up and find his independence. It’s hard to let him be a man and make his own decisions without mom there to back him up—whatever the outcome. It’s hard but I know it’s his right of passage. And he’s worked so hard and so long to prove himself to me, to his dad, to himself.

I knew this day was coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier. For 18 years I took care of this boy. For 18 years he lived in the same house with me. For 18 years thinking about his needs, desires, and wants were second nature to me. For 18 years he was a big part of my life. For 18 years I looked after him and now, I must let him go—to find his own way in the world.

And right now, at this very moment, it feels as though part of me is missing.

I went to the grocery store today and it was hard. There were certain food items that I would always buy just for him and now there was no need. Then I came home and walked into the bathroom where I found his favorite toothpaste and it became hard again. Then I washed a load of laundry and found a pair of shorts we forgot to pack, and again, it was hard. Then my daughter came home from school, and the house was quiet—there was no horseplay, there was no laughter, just silence—and it was hard again. Then we went to Subway® to pick up dinner and there was no need to buy his favorite sandwich—Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki. And that’s when I realized, as the tears gently streamed down my face, that this letting him grow up is going to be tough.

And yet, I know that he’s only a phone call, an email, or a 6 hour drive away. And for that, I am extremely grateful.

Give thanks…

Posted in It's Gratitude, Dude! | 2 Comments »

Pages: Prev 1 2 3 ...6 7 8 9 10 ...22 23 24 Next

AlyiceEdrich.com
I'm a freelance writer, mixed media artist, SMVA, and the owner of The Dabbling Mum.

Copyrights

All material on this blog belongs to Alyice Edrich, unless otherwise noted. No project, artwork, or text may be reproduced or displayed elsewhere without the consent of the creator. That includes making derivative works for resale. Please use project tutorials for personal use and/or gifts only.