Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Call Me Girl


When I was a little girl, I didn't want to be called Tori for whatever reason. I wanted to be called girl. You can ask my mom how long that lasted. My kids, fortunately, haven't gone through that stage yet. I think it is normal to look around and wish to have some of the qualities we see in other people, if not be called a different name.

I have wished many times I could be the total opposite of myself. I have friends who are crafty: in the arts and craft sort of way, not scheming. I have others who are just bouncy no matter what they post: they make everything look good. Then there others who are amazing at connecting with others and doing thoughtful things. They all inspire me and sometimes make me feel that little twinge of guilt for not spending more time on tasks like those. 

One of the things that come with being a mom is repetition. I feel like in the five years I have been a stay at home mom, I have done and said the same things over and over again. I am constantly looking one step ahead and directing traffic. I keep an eye on what is going on around us and what everyone is doing. I thought this was unique to my job. 

It hasn't been until the last year or so that I realized I have been doing that for a lot longer than five years. In fact, my oldest daughter reminds me that it is quite possible I was born doing it. The other day I was searching for a kitchen utensil, wondering where on earth we would have put it other than the normal drawer it resides in. When I found it in another drawer, it made sense, but it wasn't where it should have been. My husband told me afterwards that our oldest had been helping with the dishes. Memories came flooding back of me telling my mom the right way to fold socks or, even better, folding all the towels the same way and putting them in closet color coded. My mom said I was nine years old. She asked me where I had learned it, because no one she knew did that. It was just something I had come up with. 

While contemplating myself as a whole, I sometimes feel like I come up lacking in some areas. Compassion, the warm fuzzy things and being more relational are just a few. Sometimes I feel like I am constantly bossy, planning ahead, moving with force through tasks. I always wonder why I am not a better care taker or one who enjoys sending cards or making a phone call to say hi. I always feel functional instead of frilly. I often fight with who I am and wonder if there is any way that I could be less bossy or less involved in everything that goes on around me. It drives me crazy. I get tired of constantly butting in and making things happen.

Two years ago, I volunteered my services to start coordinating conferences for church. It felt weird, kind of foreign. I distinctly remember how I felt walking in to a group of people that were older than me to present my idea and give them the responsibility of carrying it out. I felt like a snot nosed little brat when I walked in to a group of people that I respected and loved trying to direct traffic. I didn’t realize the overall effect it was going to have in my life. 

Two years later, I feel like the work I’ve invested has been one of the most fulfilling and greatest things I have done using the qualities I sometimes felt were domineering. I can’t explain how amazing it is to see something on paper for four to six months, then watch it carried out to the fullest of intentions. After having four conferences go pretty well, I feel like I have reached a point where I can relax and appreciate the time invested. I build structure and strategy then incorporate others to put it into action. 

Those traits that I thought were overbearing and annoying were used in their full potential for something good. Everyone needs someone or something to evaluate their plumb-line of normal. I am fortunate to have not only a really great mom, but she is also a counselor who finds joy in telling many different types of people they are normal. In return, I get to tell other task oriented function lovers that they are normal as well. Thankfully, when bossiness, planning ahead and moving with force through tasks are used in a different manner, they can be positive as well.

There are days when I look around at the people in my life that make things go and feel so fortunate to have such an amazing group of family and friends. When my strengths seem obnoxious, I can look at what we all do together and relax. Their strengths help balance mine in a way that makes it all seem more productive and planned. 

We were made to be ourselves. It’s a beautiful thing when it develops into a purpose and a plan, utilizing those qualities to their full potential. It brings peace to the inner person who wants to be someone else and allows us to appreciate the qualities in others that help make it work. We weren’t made to complete the picture, just to contribute to a portion of the whole picture.




Thursday, January 13, 2011

Better Late Than Never

Happy Belated New Year, everyone. I have sat down many times to write some type of meaningful, encouraging message. Everything I came up with has sounded like a devotional, a Dear Abby column or some kind of pledge that would be chanted during a Women Are Mighty Xena Warrior Princesses meeting. I have been scraping bottom for an original thought for two weeks now.

I really love reading my friends' blogs. People around me posted all this brilliant stuff and I began to question my own personal skill. I'm really not an original creative crafter, a masterpiece chef, a professional photographer, a motivational speaker or even a revolutionary decorator. I am comfortable, practical and totally not ashamed to try someone else's idea. Sometimes my blunt ramblings don't feel as witty or even as substantial as I hope they are.

In between blankly staring at the Blogger screen and writing up other projects, I have had other minor distractions besides writer's block, inferiority and figuring out if I am, indeed, a writer. I spilled my coffee on the carpet my husband so thoughtfully cleaned. My computer shut down and refused to cooperate by turning on. Going on strike, I think my laptop thought it found it's permanent resting place. Little did Acer know that it could be totally dismantled and brought back from computer Bermuda.

It was with great relief that while chatting with a very dear friend the other night, I remembered why I started my blog. For a couple of different reasons, my thirtieth birthday just wasn't what I thought would be like. I wasn't sure if that was a personal thing or related to circumstances. After review, I really feel it was a point of personal growth.That's why I named the blog A Week After Thirty. It was my place that I could just release myself. It was my productive way of unwinding all of the complicated thoughts and misconceptions I had about this new decade in my life. It was a place to mark growth and remember the funny things that make my day.

As revelers were counting down til the midnight hour that marks the New Year, I was also counting down. I was remembering the New Years' past. I was counting down to the end of a momentous year. I was counting down the minutes until I knew things would feel as though they really did "start over". At any birthday or New Year, I think it is totally normal to look at oneself and expect ourselves to be further than where we are. I remember a couple very wonderful times that I actually felt as though I had succeeded as those minutes were marked. Both were based upon arrival at goals and measured by what most people consider success: a home, a family, bills paid off, money in savings, a new business or job.

However, after discussing this with my friend, I realized that my heart has shifted in recognizing success. A person's success cannot be measured by judging oneself by the performance of other people or their acquisition of things. It comes from being your own individual. It comes by looking at your next year as a blank canvass to be painted with your experience. It comes by appreciating the simple things that have been placed before you and finding joy in what you have instead of what you don't. It comes from recognizing mistakes and learning enough from them to change your course of action. Not everyone's journey through life is the same.

Sharing that journey is one of the most important parts. It encourages others to hope and to succeed. So thank you, for reading, commenting and supporting me as I write about mine here! I hope that it brings an element of normal to your thoughts, to your days and to your experiences. May the coffee stay in the cup, the computer remain functioning, and well, the princess thing... yeah, do with it what you will.