Counting my blessings

Gratitude. Morning breaks. Birds chirp in trees outside my bedroom window. Clouds scuttle across the sky. Grey and white, edges tinged with indigo blue and black. There is rain in the distance. Waiting in the wings for the clouds to pull the curtains across the sky so it can dance upon the earth.

Gratitude.

“When you are grateful," writes Anthony Robbins, "fear disappears and abundance appears.”

I live in abundance. Surrounded by love, harmony and joy my world is a bountiful plate.

I am blessed.

This morning, I had an email from a woman who read my book. She has left a man who abused her. Is struggling to make sense of the turmoil of his passing through her life. "I keep your book close by me," she wrote. "I can hear your voice telling me to keep breathing. To take baby steps. One step at a time and I will be okay."

The turmoil of abuse. The horror of loving someone who believes it is their right to push you down, push you back, to beat you up emotionally. To pummel you into submission. To bruise you black and blue.

The horror of believing it's true. That he is all you deserve. That what he is doing to you is your due.

Gratitude.

I am thankful for what I have learned through that experience. I am grateful for the growth it has brought me. For the truth I have unveiled. For the life I have reclaimed. For the love I know.

Once upon a time I loved a man who lied. Who believed abuse was his right.

I cannot change what he did. I cannot change the past. But in his passing, I can create a world of beauty. Plant seeds of hope, of joy, of love. I can create the world of my dreams.

For me. For my daughters. For C.C. For those I love.

And, in my courage to heal, I can encourage others to grow, to leave the abuse and step into a world of love -- of self-love. A place where the cries within become the voices of freedom. Where tears become like rain -- gently falling onto the earth to dance in puddles, to nourish the flowers and trees, to clean the streets of debris.

One day, I sat in my car and watched raindrops fall onto a puddle. The water glistened on the dark surface of the road. Each puddle bounced upon the water's surface, again and again, it bounced and danced and sparkled. There was such joy in that puddle. Such freedom in the dance.

Today, I am grateful for rain dancing on puddles, for autumn leaves turning, fall colours draping the world in gold and russet hues. I am grateful for my coffee steaming by my side, for Ellie sleeping nearby. I am grateful for C.C. singing in the shower, for Alexis and Liseanne sleeping quietly. I am grateful for the love we share. The laughter and the tears. I am grateful for their forgiveness. For the blessings of their smiles and gentleness of their hearts.

I am blessed.

The question is: Have you counted your blessings this morning? Have you awoken to the sound of gratitude raining in your heart?