Just As I Am

Like most folk, for most of my life I accepted the judgment of “the world” regarding certain of my character traits—ranging from introversion and shyness to my particular attractions and interests—and strove to change them. When I didn’t conform to the norms of the culture I grew up in, I received the message loud and clear—“There’s something wrong with you; you don’t belong”—and I took that message to heart; I accepted it as the truth.

And I hungered for belonging… My craving for belonging drove my drinking, my drug use, my materialism, and the many masks I wore in an attempt to hide my strangeness and fit in. Yet nothing I did gave me satisfaction; when I was a part of the “in” crowd, I knew I was a fake and I feared getting caught pretending. I ingested enormous pain with the constant thought that the “real me” was a misfit, belonging nowhere, and with the pressure of maintaining the facade that I believed was the only answer to loneliness.

Eventually I tired of trying to maintain the artifice; it was too much work keeping up appearances, and all my efforts to change those character traits amounted to nothing more than abiding frustration. I still believed society’s judgments and therefore considered myself broken; I resigned myself to the rubbish heap where the broken repose. I wasn’t happy, but I made peace with things as I thought them to be.

But that was then.

Now is another story, a better story. Now, I know that “the world” has got it wrong. Now, I know that I’m perfect just as I am; that I don’t need fixing, that forcing myself to conform is denial of the awesomeness that is me, that I am worthy and lovable and loved just as I am by those who belong in my life (and to whom I belong).

I’m done trying to “overcome” introversion and shyness, I’m done apologizing for who I like and what attracts me! I’m done regretting my age and past follies and the things I cannot (and need not) change. I am what I am, and what I am is glorious, as are those who embrace me as I am and appreciate my quirks and idiosyncrasies (those who don’t—who can’t—are glorious, too, but I don’t owe them any more than anyone owes me).

All that I long for is mine already, and the timing is perfect. I’m not—I’ll never be—“too old” or “too shy” or “too weird”; I’m me, and that’s amazing.

And best of all, the same is true of you.

Be awesome, my friends…be awesome.

Assumptions and Epiphanies

With all the "things" there are to do—packing, getting rid of stuff, arranging shipping—it would be easy to neglect the important things: face time, farewells, people.

It would be easy, but I just can't do it. The important things are... well, they're important; nothing matters as much to me as people.

Because that's true for me, I'm having a hard time (again!) accepting that to some people, I am not among the people who matter. They matter to me; why don't I matter to them?

The problem is my assumptions. I assume that because some people don't talk to me (even when I make the first move!) or don't respond to invitations or don't make time for me, they don't care about me; that I don't matter to them. And that assumption is unjustified.

I absolutely agree that actions speak louder than words. Where I think we (emphatically including me) go wrong is in misunderstanding what actions say. For example, when people don't talk to me or don't respond to invitations or don't make time for me, I've taken that to mean that they don't care about me when what it really means is that they don't talk to me or don't respond to invitations or don't make time for me.

All a person's actions tell me is how people act; it doesn't necessarily say anything about how people feel or what people think.

Am I hurt when people I care about don't talk to me or don't respond to invitations or don't make time for me? I absolutely am. Should I be?

I don't know.

If I'm hurt because I've assumed something that may or may not be so, then no. If I'm hurt because I'm not getting something I want, then maybe.

What I tend to do (and shouldn't do) is judge their hearts by their actions. Actions are all I have to go on, but sometimes actions lie. There's always more to the story than those of us on the outside know.

When I started writing this morning, I thought I was going to write a scathing condemnation of those I love who say they love me, but don't have time for me. Funny how the act of writing has changed my mind.

Bottom line? I shouldn't judge motivations on the basis of actions (or inactions).

Silence Speaks Louder than Words

So...

You do understand that in a little over 5 weeks, I won't be living on the same continent as you any more, right? That there will be half an ocean between us? That if you ever decide you do want to hang out with me, it will be impossible unless you come to me? That "someday" is about to become "never?"

I've tried, God knows I've tried. I've made myself available, I've volunteered to do all the traveling and visit you in your neighborhood, at your convenience. I've "put it out there" on numerous occasions. And do you know what response I've gotten? A big, fat nothing.

I love you, I do, but forgive me if I wonder whether you love me. I don't seem to be on your priority list at all. When we've been in the same place at the same time we've had great visits and you've said you want to hang out with me more, but when push comes to shove...

Sometimes silence speaks louder than words.

In just 25 days, my Harley will be at the port being loaded onto a ship; no more chances to ride together (something we've talked about for more than three years). In 39 days, I will be in Hawai`i; no more chances to get together and sit together and visit and laugh.

I miss you... don't you miss me?

That's what I thought.

Out of the Zone

(Nuts-and-bolts posts are coming; once I finish the run of Laughter on the 23rd Floor on Sunday, I'll have more attention to focus on getting things done, so expect me to write about clearing out my classroom, garage sales, house rental, and the like shortly.)

Today's reflection begins with a quote:

"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone." -Neale Donald Walsch

This quote, which a dear friend from my undergrad days at Graceland University posted on Facebook this morning, got me thinking. It seems that I've always believed it to be true—the things that really matter to me: learning, growth, love—all happen outside my comfort zone. The things that (for me) make life life aren't really "comfortable" things.

I'm not suggesting that they're painful—it's not pain as such that makes them uncomfortable—rather, they're uneasy, messy, disruptive things...yes, disruptive. And as with exercise, there can be some discomfort—aches and the like—accompanying these wonderful, meaningful, important, significant, uncomfortable things.

As a teacher, I see the impact learning can have. Many years ago, in one of my education classes at Graceland, I read that a change in behavior is the most sensitive evidence of learning, and that idea has stuck with me. Learning changes behavior. Learning changes the learner. I see it in my classroom: when students make a personal connection with a concept or idea—when they own what is taught and truly learn it for themselves—they are affected, sometimes quite powerfully. It disrupts the status quo. I think any of us can look around and find evidence of how disruptive learning truly is, which may explain why some prefer ignorance.

To see how disruptive growth is, all you have to do is walk down the sidewalk of an older neighborhood that has trees lining the street. Your feet will tell you about growth and disruption. As those trees grew, their roots heaved and cracked the sidewalk. Our comfort zone has a definite size, and growth will exceed those boundaries sooner or latter. If we insist on planting ourselves in a pot and growing, we're going to crack a few pots in the course of it. Growth cannot both continue and be kept within our comfort zone.

Love is perhaps the least comfortable, most disruptive thing of all. Not that it isn't comforting in time of trouble so much as it's troubling in time of comfort. Love changes and challenges us; it demands more of us than simple pleasure. When another's wellbeing becomes as important to us as our own, our behavior changes. We do things differently because another's wellbeing has become as important to us as our own. And a change in behavior (to bring us full circle) evinces learning.

Somehow or another, I find myself in middle age. There was a time in my life when I thought or assumed that as one aged, comfort became more important and more appropriate. Now that I find myself older, I don't think that's true.

No matter how old I am, no matter how long I live, I will always value learning, growth, and love (and the greatest of these is love), and these things cannot be contained within my comfort zone.

For me, my comfort zone is a casket, and I'm not ready to lie down yet.

This reflection brings me comfort. It affirms to me that this grand adventure is harmonious with my values and nature. It brings me peace.

6 weeks, 3 days, 2 hours 24 minutes.