Facing My Fears

Sounds intriguing, doesn’t it?  I did something on Saturday night that was a big learning experience and turning point for me.  I spoke in front of many, many people.  I am not sure if there were 60, 80, 100 people or more.  Here is the background:  I was asked by a leader in my church if I would speak in a religious conference and share my experience of my recent conversion.  I gladly accepted.  I had almost a month to prepare a five minute talk.  I was surprised at how calm I felt the weeks leading up to the day.  I felt more nervous as the day neared.  I stayed up very late the night before practicing my talk.  The day came, I went to work, came home, and my nerves were very high.  As we arrived, we were quite early, and I couldn’t even sit down.  I even walked into a table because I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going (my husband and I had a good chuckle about that).  I saw another leader of my church, and he asked me how I was doing.  I can’t remember what I said exactly, but I know that my face had a big grin, but wide eyes said, “I am very, very scared.”  He said very warmly, “Don’t worry… You are among friends.”  What a nice thing to say.  I remembered those words leading up to my turn to speak.  My time came.  I got up, approached the podium, and I could see that microphone staring me down.  I began to speak, and after I got through the first few sentences, I felt so much better.  I had felt that I truly was “among friends.”  I am happy to report that it went so well.  I made people laugh, and the best part was that there were parts I didn’t expect for people to laugh, but when they did, it felt great.  There were parts of my talk that were more serious, and I could feel people listening.  After the conference was done, I had so many people come up to me, shake my hand and thank me for my words.  The conference continued the next morning.  The same man who asked me to speak the night before was going to be speaking that day, and he asked if he could share a story which I had shared in church a few weeks before.  I told him he could.  His topic was about forgiveness.  I had forgiven a girl who was very mean to me when we were younger, and I feel so much better for it.  I was able to see that she was mean to me because her life was so hard, and I, for one reason or another, was an easy target.  She was hurting, so she hurt me.  Since she hurt me, I really did not like her.  As I got older, I thought I was over it, and didn’t care anymore, but I had realized that these past few years I actually hadn’t truly forgiven her, until recently.  I hope that my story being shared on Sunday may have helped others.  I hope that my words spoken the day before had touched people’s hearts.  It made me feel good that after the conference was over on Sunday, people were telling me how they liked my talk the day before.  One girl even said, “I liked it so much, I thought about you the whole way home.”  Those words made me feel so good inside.

You may be wondering why I am talking so much about this talk I did this last weekend?  That is because last year I was diagnosed with “Social Anxiety Disorder”.  I may talk in further detail about this at another time.  There is a very W-I-D-E range of explanations for what Social Anxiety means, and it effects each person differently, but one of the things for me is that in some cases I really worry about what other people think, especially if I make mistakes.  Can you imagine how it felt for me to speak in front of all those people?  Oh, and I forgot to mention that I slipped up on a few words in the very beginning, too!  By going through my nervousness, and getting through my talk, it gave me more confidence.  I had faced my fears, and in return have received more courage.  I am learning to be grateful for my trials and burdens because I have noticed in recent times that by trying to stay positive, there are times when those trials and burdens can turn into blessings.  They have made me stronger.  For instance, there have been times that my fears, by facing them, have turned into my bravest moments.  I am not sure if  I would consider myself to be a brave person, but I have had moments of my own personal bravery.  In giving my talk, I got to meet a lot of wonderful people.  There are a few people who I know I will always remember, even if I don’t see them again. 

Happy Tuesday to you and yours… 

Father's

Thank you for reading this blog.  I feel bad that I didn't get it out in the morning, but I feel good that I am here writing it now.  It is a beautiful day today, and I am so happy to be able to sit down and write my thoughts.

This last Sunday was Father's Day.  I couldn't help but think of my dad and the things I remember most about my childhood with him.  I am very thankful because my dad spent a lot of time with me and my sisters growing up.  He would play catch with us, he would rebound for us and play basketball games with us.  My dad loves fishing, and he would bring us on camping and fishing trips.  As a little girl, I got bored very quickly with fishing, but my favorite part of the trips were the evenings.  We would eat dinner, sit around the campfire, and my dad would tell stories.  I would beg him to tell the same stories, and we only heard them on our camping trips.  By the way, my dad is a great storyteller.  

I have just a few memories that are sticking out in my head right now, and I would like to share them and reflect on how they made me feel in the moment and now.  This first memory is when I was a little girl my dad started a game.  I am not sure if it was just him and me who did this, or if it was with my sisters, too, but every summer evening we would wait for the moon to make it's appearance.  Whoever noticed it first would say, "My moon", and the moon would be theirs for the evening.  I now live in an area where due to the weather I don't get to see the moon as often as when I was a child.  On clear nights, when the moon is so bright, I look up and in my heart I say, "My moon".

A second memory I have with my dad is that he would play catch with me and my sisters.  My sisters and I played softball, and my dad would throw us pop flies to catch.  We would do this for hours.  As we got older we would ask him to throw the ball higher, and I remember telling him, "Make me run for it!"  I loved catching a fly ball on the run.  It made me feel so good.  I remember the first time my dad brought home a wiffle ball and bat.  I was very young, and I never played T-ball.  I learned to hit the ball from that little ball and bat.  I remember one of the first pitches my dad threw to me; I hit it so hard that it grazed by the top of his ear!  He laughed so hard because he could feel it graze by his head!  I played softball on a team from when I was in second grade to eighth grade.  My eighth grade year, I knew it was my last year.  I did not want to play in high school, although I was good enough to where I could have.  I remember I was playing in my very last game, and there was a pop fly.  I was playing third base, and when you are in the infield, you have first dibs on any fly balls.  I ran back, back, and back, and I caught the ball and ran into the fence!  I made the winning catch!  I knew that I had ended my softball career on the best note possible by catching a fly ball that I was so familiar with.  I was so glad that my dad was there at that game.

My last memory I want to share is when I was six years old.  My dad and members of our extended family built the first house I lived in.  When I was six years old, my parents sold the house, and we moved.  My dad and I were the last one's to leave the house.  As we were approaching the end of the driveway, I said, "Dad, Stop!"  He stopped the truck.  I jumped out, and I went down to the patch of field that was stepping distance from our driveway (that could be seen from the kitchen window).  My sisters and I have a lot of fun childhood memories playing there.  After jumping out of my dad's truck, I made my way in the field, under an old oak tree, and I picked up a rock.  I walked back to my dad's truck, hopped in, and said, "I wanted something to remember this place by."  My dad didn't say a word, and we drove away.  My dad was amazed at how I was only six years old, and I was thinking in those terms.  He still remembers that, and so do I.  

In the spirit of Father's Day, I hope my reminiscing about my father may stoke the embers of loving memories with your father's (or father figures in your life).

Thanks for these wonderful memories, Dad.  Happy Father's Day, and I love you.

Happy Tuesday to you and yours....

A little delay until tonight....

Hello Blogging People.... 

This morning got away from me... and I don't have time to write my blog until tonight.  Please stay tuned, and this will hopefully be my only "Tuesday Evenings with Me".  Maybe one of my blogs coming up should be about how it is okay to not be perfect?

Thank you for your understanding, and I hope you will enjoy my blog tonight. :)  I have something I have been thinking about for the past few days, and I look forward to writing it...

Until this evening! :)

Small Delights

Hello and Happy Tuesday!  If you haven't noticed already, I am writing this mornings post in the wee hours of the night (still being officially Tuesday Morning!).  This Tuesday is a very, very busy one ahead of me, so that is why I am writing this post after midnight (then off to bed I go!).  

This Tuesday I want to talk about taking pleasure in small delights.  I have been able to spend time with my nephew the past few days, and I am amazed at how much he has grown and how much he has learned.  It made me smile watching him.  He took such delight in the simplest of things.  I would look at him and put my hair in his face, and he would giggle... then wait for me to do it again.  He played in a large public fountain area with a lot of other little kids, and after everyone else was done, he would look back at us, smile, giggle and splash some more.  It makes me think about my life.  Today I thought to myself, "Am I taking as much pleasure in the little things in my life?"  I want to sketch out more time for me to read my book outside while sitting on my patio furniture... I want to go to the beach and just sit there and take in the power and serenity of the crashing waves in the ocean... I want to have more special planned dinner-for-two meals with my husband... just because.  I want to be able to realize in the moment how many wonderful moments I have in all my days.  This is another goal I want to set for myself.  How about you?  Are you with me?

Happy Tuesday to you and yours...

Pride

I have been sitting at my desk, staring at this computer screen for about ten minutes, and just "blank" about what I want to write.  It's like there is a Rolodex in my mind, and every time I think about something I want to write, I would say, "Nah, not that.  Nope, not that one either.  Maybe that one next week."  As I was looking about the room, my eyes fell upon my college diploma hanging on my wall.  I decided I want to talk about that.   

Remember in my last post I talked about gratitude?  There is something that I have always felt grateful for during my college career since "Day 1".  I have felt extremely grateful for the fact that I was able to go to college.  Even as a college freshman, I recognized how lucky I was to be living in the country I live, and living in the time frame I live in.  I live in a country where anyone can get an education.  I live in a country where even if you don't have the money, you can pay back the money when you are all finished.  I live in a country where a woman can get an education.  I remember walking on campus my first year of college and feeling privileged to be there.  I thought of the women in our history who had made so many sacrifices in their lives for their rights, and the rights of their fellow sisters, and future daughters.  I felt so free.

As time went on, I had to remind myself of those feelings.  There were some semesters that were incredibly difficult, and it seemed like I wasn't even getting close to graduating.  There was one time I was driving, and I thought to myself, "I feel like I am going to be a Junior forever."  I felt like becoming a Senior was never going to happen, and that I would never graduate.  I actually had the serious thought about quitting school.  I was very fed up with a lot of it.  It was such hard work: I was working and going to school, both full time, and I was commuting everywhere.  I was feeling very sorry for myself.  I was having a big pity party.  As I was driving, a memory came flooding back to me.  I remember in my first year of college, I went to my grandparents house for dinner one Sunday night.  These are the same grandparents from my first posting.  It was just me and my grandma and my grandpa.  My grandpa was talking to me and we were still sitting at the dinner table.  He told me how proud he was of me that I was going to school.  He said how proud he was of all his grand kids who had gone to school and finished, the ones who were currently in school, and for the ones who were planning on attending after high school (we are talking about a lot of grandchildren).  As he said this, I remember him saying, "I am so proud of you."  As he was saying all of this, I took notice that he was getting misty eyed and choked up.  This stuck out in my mind because I was not expecting this at all.  Now, fast forward to me back in my car on my drive, contemplating quitting college.  I thought about my grandpa.  He lived in a time where if someone wanted to get a college education, they had to pay for it all themselves.  There were no student loans.  My grandpa worked very hard all of his life and did not have the opportunity to go to college.  He expressed how great it was that people can now go to school and pay it back through loans.  My grandpa lost his father to pneumonia as a young child (being six or seven years old), and his dear mother never remarried.  It was just him, his brother, and his mom.  My grandpa started working at a very young age.  He was also incredibly bright.  He even skipped the second grade.  So, as I am contemplating this, I thought, "Here was a man who would have loved to go to college, but he lived in a time where it was very hard to.  He also lived in a time where a war started, and I'm sure that made it even more difficult.  And, here I am, thinking about quitting because it is hard."  I realized that he was a strong motivator and inspiration to me.  As the years went on in my college career, and I experienced more hardship, I would remember that particular memory and think about my grandpa and his life.  I thought about him many-a-night when I wanted to give up on an assignment or a project, and I found the motivation to complete it.  I wish I could thank him for his example and our Sunday dinner talk that one night.  Since he has passed on, I will thank him right here... Grandpa, thank you for saying you were proud of me.  Those words have stuck with me through these years and have motivated me to live my dream, and it has taught me not to give up.  I got my diploma.  It hangs on my wall, and many-a-time, I look at it, I think of you.  I thank you for your inspiration and love.

As time went on, I found support and inspiration from others around me as well: My husband, my family, my friends, my co-workers.  I finally finished and graduated in May of 2009.  There were a lot of people graduating, and I learned that our graduating class was the largest most diverse class the university had ever had.  I felt proud.  While sitting at my graduation, I remember sitting next to a nice girl.  She said something that made me think.  She said, "With so many people graduating, it makes me feel less special... like anyone can do it."  I thought about what she said, and I disagreed.  I thought about how wonderful it was to see so many people graduating.  It is a dream come true for so many, not just the graduates, but for the loved ones of the graduates as well.  I remember throughout my college career thinking how getting a degree would get me a really great paying job.  I also happened to graduate when our country was in a deep recession.  I then realized how my degree was not something I wanted to use to get a job.  It meant so much more to me then that.  It meant that I proved to myself that I could finish something I put my mind to.  It meant that no matter what happens in my life, no one, nothing, can ever take my education away from me.  It is mine.  I earned it.  I treasure it.

There is a quote that I remember from a great movie, "A League of Their Own".  Tom Hanks is a coach of an all girls baseball team during WWII.  The best player leaves the team when the season is not quite done because her husband comes home from the war.  The coach asks her why she is leaving when the season is almost over?  She replies, "It just got too hard."  He replies with, "It's supposed to be hard.  If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it.  The hard is what makes it great."  I apply that to my life in regards to how I feel about getting my college degree.  It was a long journey, but I am glad I did it.  My sister gave me a card for my graduation with a quote from Lao Tse, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with one single step."  That can be applied to anyone in their life endeavors. 

I know that the word "pride" can be used in both good and bad contexts.  I want this post to sound "prideful" in the best most positive sense of the word.  May we all be proud of our accomplishments.  For me it is my degree, but for others it can be completely different things.  Maybe you set your mind to learn something and completed it.  Maybe you have a wonderful skill that you have harnessed and now you can share it with others. Maybe you want to learn something new and you are just beginning. 

May we all be proud of ourselves and feel good about who we are, where we live, and the lives we lead.

Happy Tuesday to you and yours...