Why I hesitate

I’ve never felt like leading music in front of a group would be a good idea.  a) Because I’m not sure I would get it right, and b) you know that would mean I would be in front of a group.  But you also know I’m all about learning experiences, so a couple years ago I ventured out of my comfort zone for a greater good and volunteered to help out a smallish group.  The hymn was How Great Thou Art.  None of it worked.  It was bad.  I can’t foresee a time when I’ll ever agree to do that again.  I was beyond embarrassed.  Just this week a friend asked me to lead the music for the kids on Sunday.  Thankfully I have other commitments.

I’m afraid to get a real job.  As a tour guide and receptionist at BYU I’d lackadaisically let one group go out on a tour without really checking to see if they had a slot reserved.  If a large group of people came, I just sort of assumed that was the tour we were waiting for and sent them off without confirming.  I sent out groups using a different department’s cart they were planning to use.  I’d use up all the big carts without seeing what other groups would need them.  Not all the time.  But enough.  It’s pointless to enumerate all the ways I messed things up.  My First Jobs post talks a little about this kind of stuff.  I confided in Todd the other night.  I’m even afraid to become a receptionist when I go back to work.  I’m scared I will ruin things all over again.  But in bigger ways.

I was in charge of a dinner celebration one year, the committee chair.  I’m pretty sure one lady still doesn’t like me.  She didn’t like me then either.  I was also president of the Young Women’s organization back when we were in vet school.  It was mostly a horrible experience.  I felt unsupported, my counselors and I weren't on the same page, the girls and their families had all sorts of problems.  Some of the girls ditched.  I had my two year-old boy with me or at a babysitter’s for every activity.  That pregnant summer I was due in August, my grandpa died, my sister got divorced, my camp leader was all of a sudden unavailable.  You should know by now Todd was gone.  I had no idea what I was doing; I felt utterly alone.  I never have been a teen-person, not even as a teen.  I wasn't the right kind of leader for the girls.  I connected with a few, and I still have fond memories of them, but it never felt like a good fit for me to be in that position.  The idea of being in charge of anything again makes me completely nervous.  So I shy away from taking on major school fundraisers or projects.  I will assist, just don’t make me ultimately responsible for anything, except my family.  The other stuff scares me to death.  And now you know why.

I think I was around 13.  A friend let me drive a tractor.  I nearly collapsed a fence, having no idea what a clutch was or that I needed to push that in while pressing on the brake.  That’s not the only reason I shied away from an agricultural major, but an older woman told me it was her job to drive large trucks like that on her mission with her husband.  It makes me nervous just thinking about having an assignment like that.

Poetry has never really made sense to me, and I never liked those short stories in high school English, both of which we had to surmise what their deeper meanings supposedly were.  I only ever skimmed those kinds of reading assignments because I usually didn’t get home in time to get all my homework done.  Math took priority, so I skipped or breezed through long readings.  But Mr. Landry finally called me on it.  He refused to let it go when I replied I had no idea what the poem was talking about.  He stayed on me and wouldn’t let the class go even though the bell had rung until I gave my interpretation.  For the love.  I’ve never cared much for poetry since.  And hesitate even now to suggest aloud what hidden mysteries might be lurking deep in scriptural passages.  I just make notes to myself in the margins.  In case I’m getting it all wrong, no one will know.

I was part of a pod cast panel for several months.  We’d record live.  The others were all so eloquent and articulate.  They had stories and personal experiences to support their ideas.  They just came to them off the top of their heads.  I know this is a basic quandary for introverts, but I just can’t think and talk at the same time.  I have to synthesize my ideas, ideally write them down.  It helped when the one in charge would pose a question, go around the panel and get to me last, giving me some valuable time to think.  It was even more helpful once I started asking for some questions ahead of time and could make some notes.  In my volunteer work at church we’re occasionally asked to make some remarks.  I come prepared with a little card.  Even when I feel inclined to share my intimate thoughts and feelings in front of the congregation, I make a couple of bullet points on my program as a crutch.  It’s still not pretty, but I do it maybe once a year.  Just for good measure.

I was a Y Group Leader back as a sophomore or junior in college, one who introduced the freshmen to the campus and college life.  Having been a little involved on campus previously, I thought this would just be something else to try.  Just another reason I stay behind the scenes, it was a nightmare.  I had a strange male partner.  He wore his watch over wrist sweat bands.  That stands out.  Kind of different.

My concern over deep water emerged when I fell out of a raft when I was in elementary school and floundered under water, no one noticing that I didn’t know how to swim.  Finally an uncle on shore came to my rescue.  It was also a little hard boogie boarding as I got older even though we did it all the time.  As my eyes worsened I couldn’t see where my family was on the beach if I didn’t have my contacts in, but wearing contacts in salt water can be painful, so I eventually spent more time out of the water than in.  A guy took me and a friend on a catamaran on a break from college.  I have no idea what it’s called when it goes up on one side and skates across the water.  But being afraid of both heights and water (from my earlier days), I hated it.  I can’t make out the fun in stuff like that.  I’m just fine—so fine—on the shore, assembling the sandwiches, making sure the towels don’t blow away, guarding the camera.  I’m cold in nearly every water feature except hot tubs.  I’m not that into bathing suits.  I’m white.  Just none of it sounds that great to me.  Friends and relatives alike think I’m weird.  But maybe they have things they avoid. 

I’m just pointing out the obvious.  There are usually reasons for why we shy away from parts of life.  It's not like I haven't tried some things, that I haven't stepped out of my comfort zone. But I'm 42, by now I have a pretty good handle on what I like and don't like, what things work and what things are better left to others.  Nor is it that I don’t want to help or that I don’t have time or energy.  It’s not that I don’t want to do my part.  It’s not that I don’t want to be one of my normal friends racing around on the ski doo or doing tricks on jet skis, I just can’t see how to cross the bridge from where I am.  Maybe you can relate if I suggest an impromptu comedy act, a lip sync dressed in a silly costume, a whistling contest, an extemporaneous speech, a high, high dive.  I don’t know what your anxieties are; I just know there’s almost always a reason behind mine.