Playing a quieter role

There are a million things I’d never volunteer for, that I shy away from, and will in no way agree to.  Along those lines, there are plenty of people who long for and even enjoy the spotlight; I think they’re nuts.  So while you’ll never catch me on stage, I’d be happy to put together the program (not the show—the paper flyer that tells you what’s going on).  I love performances of all most kinds and am happy to lead the clapping and to be one of the first ten to give a standing ovation.  I’ll work the bake sale (as long as someone else is ultimately in charge) and sell tickets.

I like being at the school—in the library.  I’m somewhat part of PTO; I go to the meetings, I help behind the scenes.  I would never aspire to or agree to playing president, vice president, secretary, or treasurer.  I will be support staff.  I will make cotton candy, run copies, serve pretzels in the concessions stand, hand out prizes in a carnival booth and stuff fundraiser packets.  I hate calling for donations, but I’m happy to write the thank you notes.  The one thing I can do is show up and tell you what a great job you’re doing.  You can count on me to slice oranges, set up chairs, and serve root beer floats.

I’m not into large gatherings of any sort (unless it’s an inspirational talk) and I’m kind of wary of the term “party” for what it implies (silliness, expectations of fun and animation, a performance of culinary and artistic talents, small talk with a Silo cup in hand); but I’m more than happy to provide the food and venue for baby showers, luncheons, large bbqs, dinner groups, whatever.  I just hate being the one to tell everyone it’s time to eat.

I will be the first to tell you how much I admire the leaders of organizations I’m a part of; their energies and abilities astound me.  They aren’t afraid to be in front of a crowd, to be in the spotlight.  They get more done in a day than anyone I know.  I have friends in charge of all sorts of things from political movements to the high school graduation party—they were born to lead.  I love our Relief Society president.  She is not only focused on what needs to be done and who needs help, but she is beautiful and funny—stand-up comedy funny.  Everyone feels like she’s their best buddy.  These women command my attention because they are so different from me; I’m in awe of them.  And I’m so totally good with that.  I have no desire at all to be up there.  I’m happy folding my paper napkins while we talk.

So this is simply an acknowledgment to all my quieter friends.  I get you.  Just know that your role is ever as important and that you inspire me.  I feel safe and calm in your company.  I can sometimes feel overwhelmed by my outgoing friends, I sometimes end up retreating to my thoughts.  And yet I love the variety, the perfect plan that allows us to work together.  Whether you are at the microphone making announcements or the kitchen pouring punch, you’re good.  You’re so very, very good.  And I think you should know.