What’s my WHAT? September 27, 2009

Earlier today I had one of those moments surely everyone I dread.  You know, the one where someone asks you to do something a little out of the ordinary and you’re caught off guard.  But the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and your jeans are fittin’ fine, so you’re momentarily STRUCK DUMB, and say “Shuuurrr.  I can do that!”  Like a dummy.

It almost seems like it’s gonna be fun. For a second.

But then it’s just not.

So, this morning I was approached by two sweet looking gals while coming out of our new church.  Could I say a few words on camera for an upcoming women’s event, they asked.  They just needed a few spontaneous and heartfelt sentences.  Sure, I thought.  I can do that!  *birds chirping*

Then up comes the video camera and out comes the question I’m supposed to answer…

What’s your passion?  Can you tell us a little about what you’re passionate about.  Just say your name and look right here INTOTHISCAMERA.   *blink, blink, blink*

Uhhhhhhhhhh, what’s my name again?  Who am I?  Where am I?  * eyes nervously darting from side to side looking for an escape route*.  You wanna know what?  My WHAT?  I’m not sure I know what you mean by that?  Could you give me an idea of what you’re going for here?  *Someone get me outta here!*  Seriously, where am I…who…whu…ummm?  Look over there!  I think it’s Michael Jackson!!  *ducking for cover under the closest rhododendron*.

Ohmyheck.  How do I get myself into these things?  *arms flapping in exasperation, eyes all abulge*  You’d think a girl that’s been using her mouth and brain for as many years as I have would have a little bit better understanding of what they’re actually used for.

I couldn’t for the life of me think of a single thing to say and therefore was unable to speak one meaningfully coherent sentence. I did get my name out finally, and a few bits and pieces of this and that…my passion is my kids…love my kids…teach them about Jesus…teach them at home…kids…teaching…compassion…Jesus.  Basically, it was a bunch of blah, blah, blah, blah-dee, blah, blah, blahhhhh, with uncomfortably long pauses sprinkled awkwardly throughout,  followed by nervous laughter (them and me) and lots of apologizing (just me).  I imagine they were thinking something like Wow, she looked so normal.

As I walked away all I felt was shame, embarrassment, humiliation.  It was ugly.  With a capital U.

All I could think about for probabaly 20 seconds was how awful I’d sounded, and how dumb I’d been to agree to do something so outside my natural ability in the first place.  Didn’t I know it would end poorly?!  What did I think was going to happen?!? People were going to know the bloom was off this rose.

And then the most amazing thing happened.

I decided I didn’t think I cared.  Hm!  I decided I didn’t really think I should care if I was gonna walk that talk about having an audience of One (God), and not letting other people decide if I’m worth something or not.

And seriously,  just like that, freedom.

The sun started to shine again.  The birds started sing again.  I got in my car, drove off, and for the first time in my life didn’t think about what I shouldacouldwoulda said.  And it was awesome.  I felt a little bit closer to being the grown up girl I look like on the outside.

BUT… I have to admit that later in the day something did start to bother me.

My deer-in-the-headlights, rat-in-the-trap, hand-in-the-cookie-jar reaction aside, could I answer their original question?  Do I know what I’m passionate about?  Am I passionate about anything?  Could I honestly say that I feel passion and not just strong like or interest in any one thing?  What if I couldn’t?

I decided that it wasn’t ok with me not to have a good answer to that question.  After all, I’ve been on this earth for a lot of years, and for most of those years I’ve had a big, full life that couldn’t possibly have been so big and full if I hadn’t felt passion for at least parts of it.  Didn’t I know myself at all I wondered.  Have I been so busy throwing all my energies into being a wife and mom that perhaps I didn’t?  Was I really the best wife or mom if I couldn’t answer such an important question?

So, I’ve started to thoughtfully ponder what my answer would’ve been earlier today, had I had an answer ready to give.  Not in a vain attempt to make myself look better in the eyes of others but as a little exercise in self discovery, if you will.  So far, I have a little mental list going.  As I reflect, I’m starting to see that like or even love doesn’t necessarily translate into passion.  I imagine that the people and things I feel actual, bone fide passion about will illicit a more emotional or maybe even physical response in me somehow.  You know, like the difference I feel when I compare the love I have for brownies to the love I have for my husband.  Like that.

So can you tell me…What are your passions?  Do you know?  Does your current life include your passion(s)?  How did you discover your passion(s)?

I can be over in 10 minutes with my video camera.

Blogging Looked So Easy September 10, 2009

So.  I’m like a kid with a new bike.  I want to ride that shiny new beauty down the street but I’m not sure how.  Where to start? Is my first attempt going to be a fabulous success or a wild ride toward disaster?  What looks so effortless from afar takes on a whole new dimension when it’s me getting on.  Truly, it would all be easier if I just parked that bike back in the garage and stuck to what I knew.  Solid ground, on my own two feet.

Butohmygoshthat’ssoBORING, can I just say.  Where’s the “livin’” life in that?  Everyone knows (don’t they?) that easy isn’t usually better.  I tell that to my kids all the time.  I tell them that the best things in life, the things they’ll care about most, are the things that will stretch them beyond what’s comfortable.  I tell them that no matter what happens, success or failure, hard work and effort are never wasted.

So here I am, taking my own advice.  I’m stepping out.  Practicing what I preach.  Letting my kids watch me squirm a little.  It’s great and it’s terrifying and it’s exciting and…I think I might have to throw up.

But I am not dissuaded.

I’m going for it.

My first blog post ever. Of all time. EV-URR. September 10, 2009

A blank page just feels like too much pressure.  It takes me back to my school days…all those empty faint blue lines just waiting to be transformed into something amazing.  *sigh*  Writing has always been a little bit of a painful process for me.  I have something akin to stage fright or buyers remorse or some such thing.  I sit.  I stare.  I think about stuff.  I bite my nail.  I hyperventilate. Mostly I just wish I could cram those sheets of notebook paper back in my PeeChee and go to recess.  Not much has changed in the last 20 years apparently. *uproarious laughter*

HOW.EVER.  I feel drawn in by words and thoughts, and humor and people..and the delightful mystery which is blogging.  So, despite a racing heart and some serious performance anxiety, I’m putting pen to paper, so to speak.  At least I’m not being graded.