- I am first and always most grateful for my family, who find enthusiasm for not only the time I spend on my writing, but for the writings themselves (even when they don't "get it"), and for the geeky quote collection I've accumulated in my head from projects over the years. They remind me the truest meaning of support: That something is important to me is reason enough for it to be important to them, and I can tap into that trust as the reason to write.
- From the unknown conference attendee who participated in my May presentation on project management, and took the time after to complete an audience evaluation form, on which was contained the single word "Useless", I am grateful for this important lesson: Nothing I write will be meaningful to everyone, but that should not stop me from writing; those who find value there will do so irrespective of other opinions.
- For the poets, the band of linguophiles, editors, and teachers who permit me to sometimes run in their company and never, never, use the word "idiot", I am grateful for the generous examples they provide in person and in poems. From them two goals for the year: to live up to their generous adjectives and their specificity guidance.
- To the teams and athletes I root for (that's the Mets, Jets, Yankees*, Norm Duke and Parker Bohn, among other lesser followings), I remain as grateful as I was when I was 10 for the recurring chance to cheer, thrill, groan, and completely lose myself in the pursuit of something with great passion with no consequence more severe than a Sunday afternoon. The residue of passion is momentum. Better if the Jets win, of course, but the adrenaline persists no matter the outcome.
The learning from my workshop was that gratitude = energy, eventually, and I do believe that. But it seems all the more important in the pursuit of a writing hobby, where the feedback cycle is measured in seasons, if not years, to have one's energy be generated from within.
Let that be this year's resolution.