By Lori Welch Brown

This column practically writes itself these days. I bet you’re thinking, AI, but no, you would be incorrect. AI has been replaced by repetitive, unoriginal thoughts thanks to yours truly! Welcome to the world of writing. So my unoriginal, repetitive thought this month is yet again—drumroll, please—the passage of time because are you kidding me that it’s already November? As you’re reading this, please grab a pen and paper and start writing your New Year’s resolutions because by the time you get through this column, the ball will be dropping. And while we’re at it, Happy Valentine’s Day.

It’s an aging thing. As we get older, time feels like a bullet train headed to Geriatricsville. It’s really hard to understand this concept if you’re under the age of 50. Or maybe 40. When you’re younger, you feel like you have all the time in the world. And trust me when I say, that is a luxury. And maybe also a farce. Father Time does not like to be taken for granted.

This is why all of our decisions around time—how and where we spend it, with whom and how much, etc—are so important. Maybe more important than allocating your retirement accounts or your streaming budget, always, but especially as we get older. When you’re in your twenties, you can afford a few high-drama, energy vampire friends. You can stay up until 3:00 am intently listening to them vent about their horrible bosses and more horrible boyfriends/girlfriends and all the people who criticized them unnecessarily through the week. You can dedicate time to activities you don’t necessarily enjoy such as company softball teams and bowling leagues that play on Monday nights at 9:00 pm, 30 miles away.

But once you hit a certain age, you gotta push the brakes on that nonsense. Time matters. And you want to spend your time with people who matter most to you. You begin to pull away from unfulfilling relationships and move toward people who light you up inside. You stop saying ‘yes’ to every invitation and stop feeling pressured to join in on things you know you won’t like (hello, adult field day). How is that broken elbow, btw?

And maybe you start feeling a little more grateful for the people in your inner circle, the ones who show up (relatively drama free) and support you and your crazy ideas. The ones who embrace your weird quirks, create space for you to be vulnerable, and let you be you. All the messy bits. Bring us your flawed, imperfect people and let us love them with all our hearts, but ask them to leave at least a few pieces of their baggage at the door. Can I get an ‘amen’?

I also find myself feeling extremely grateful and blessed for the little things. Quiet mornings with a cup of hot coffee. Sun-filled, brisk autumn days. A fresh East coast oyster with a glass of cold chardonnay. A fire pit surrounded by friends. My new puppy Woody (super cute, but a total monster) going a day without running off with one of my shoes or making Swiss cheese out of whatever pants I’m wearing. Bless his heart.

Honestly, I’m just grateful to be here with you—in this crazy, messed up world we inhabit. When the news is bleak and things seem dire, we can reach for each other (as long as there’s consent). We can grab our remote and watch an episode of Mobland (if you want to feel less crazy, because Maeve Harrigan is over-the-top bat sh#t in the most brilliant way thanks to the amazing Helen Mirren) or Schitt’s Creek (RIP Catharine O’Hara—no one makes me laugh like Moira Rose). We can also reach for a bowl of mashed potatoes if we really need some comfort.

The holidays can be rough. Not everyone will find themselves seated at a table with family—which if you’ve seen The Family Stone, you know can be overrated. But—follow me here—if you can focus on the things you do have vs. the things you don’t, chances are that your holiday will be a little brighter and more joyful. Some of my most joyful moments have been at a dance party for one with the music cranked or curled up on my couch with a good book. This Book Made Me Think of You by Libby Page is a great one. You can also reach for a paint brush or a knitting needle or a sketch book and make something really crappy because even a crappy creation can make you happy. Just a thought.

There is always something to be grateful for, but my sincerest hope is that your gratitude bucket is overflowing this Thanksgiving and that you find yourself swimming in a gravy boat filled to the rim with love and laughter and joy.

About the Author: Lori is a local writer, painter and pet lover who loves to share her experiences and expertise with our readers. She has been penning a column for the OTC for over 25 years. Please follow Lori online on Medium for more missives like this.