Life is often filled with uncertainty. Not knowing can cause anxiety and worse, even fear. Often, fear is irrational but it still stalks us creatures craving directions and crystal clear pictures of the future.

My year began with so much excitement and then, I got dished a large dollop of unpredictability, which segued into a period of dissonance, and eventually, employment’s door shut in my face. By late June, I was uncertain about what new revelations were just around the corner.

Often, people from my past would offer bromides such as, “I know you’ll land on your feet,” and “I have confidence that you’ll find something new and exciting to do.” Empty words are all some have to extend when for you, it feels like the equivalent of stepping off a cliff.

Miss Mary has been my rock that doesn’t roll; by that I don’t mean that she’s a stick in the mud, either. During uncertain times, it’s important to have someone in your life that knows your true talents, doesn’t overvalue them, but who also won’t let you wallow in self-pity or sell yourself short. She’s like my own personal talisman. Being Mary, she’d never think that what she does is remarkable because that’s just who she is.

While some things seemed to be moving in the opposite direction from where I wanted them to be going, my writing continued to provide new surprises and amazement. When I started down the road to being a writer more than a decade ago, I had dreams, aspirations, and goals that some probably thought were unrealistic. A backwards glance now offers evidence that I didn’t set my personal bar too high.

In May, on a sleepy Saturday when most people were focused on raking their yards, or enjoying shaking off the cabin fever that Maine’s interminable winters often produce, more than 100 people stood in line for two hours to get a book signed by some guy who writes about Moxie (and baseball), and who believed in himself enough to take his writing to the next level.

Family is important to me. 2012 might be the year that I learned just how much. Old disagreements and differences were put aside, or at least conversations were initiated about what respect and togetherness could become.

When I used  blogging as a wedge, or a rock to bash people over the head that weren’t as “enlightened” as I fancied myself to be, people in the same place as I was—observing their glasses as mostly empty—liked what I wrote. Since embracing a more positive approach (for my own sanity), I occasionally learn that some people think I’ve become a rube, or a shill for an altered state not grounded in the reality.

I’m very aware of life’s injustices. Some people have more money than they’ll ever need and many people struggle for sustenance to survive. I get all of that. I also recognize that there are some major assholes in charge of governments, companies, and sometimes they live in houses right next door to us.

I’ve decided to integrate a philosophy of life that recognizes that things aren’t right, and attempts to be an agent of change in the areas that I have some influence over. While I might be aware of all the bad or evil deeds taking place around me, it’s important that I try to find some joy and beauty in each and every day I’m given above ground.

If that makes me overly positive or it offends your sensibilities, I can’t really help you. I’m just trying to find my way forward and find other fellow travelers holding similar approaches to life.

The title suggests that this is not a post about being thankful. Actually, my goal was more about avoiding the typical laundry list of things I’m grateful for. It’s not that I don’t have a host of things and people I could tick off. It’s just that if you are one of the people in my life that have offered me something more than the usual surface support, I’ve probably already communicated that to you.

Hard work and shipping have certainly played a role in reaching the end of 2012 in possibly a better place than I was in 2011, although my surroundings are certainly different in a metaphorical sense. I also like the small band of brothers (and sisters) that I know have my back.