Since this seems to be the week in which I am exploring my prejudices and that which makes me feel superior (now I know you want to read on), let's tackle blessed.
This word used to aggravate me beyond measure. I'm not entirely sure why, or I wouldn't be able to put my finger on just one reason. It's overused, and overused by a certain subset of one religious population in these here United States. It's also feels saccharine and not fully genuine to me.
There's this guy's argument that I won't summarize here because the article's worth reading if you haven't already.
And I associate it with motherly kvelling, a Yiddish word I learned recently in an post by someone on his/her blog that I can't recall at this moment (sorry). And since it was handed out to me by God or fate or chance that I would have children with special needs, I don't have quite as many opportunities to kvell or proclaim how blessed I am that my child can read at the age of four or is a future track superstar, and it therefore calls up those vestiges of bitterness and envy that still linger. (Now, I can and will kvell along with the best of them regarding my children's more atypical accomplishments as anyone who reads this blog knows.)
But I think I may have become more open-minded to this word. This blogging business has broadened my horizons. I can identify at least one user of this word in the blogosphere that I can admire. And I see it how often it is used to describe what I would genuinely agree are blessings: familial love, kindness and compassion towards others, true friendship. Not material possessions, but that which is unseen, gifts from God or the universe or whatever source you choose to cite.
I wouldn't go so far as to say I love the word, but I think I might have used it once or twice with only a twinge of irony.
And, in fact, I will end by writing that I am blessed to have met such truly wonderful souls as my blog tribe encompasses. See? And I only threw up a little in my mouth.