But I am

A friend posted a photo of her writing in her last page of her journal that she started back in 2016.  Loved it! Her post reminded me that I used to fill up a journal every year.  Which is sort of funny.  I don’t know how I ever had time to write that much in high school or with a house full of littles.  But now that I have all the time in the world, I hardly ever write in my journal! So I was impressed that she’d filled one up in two years.  Yay! I think she was discouraged at how long it had taken, I was just amazed at what she had accomplished!

And so she caused me to think if I ever feel that way, do I tend to notice what I haven’t done instead of what I have? Yes! In so many instances, in so many parts of my days, in so many different ways… I see where I’m falling short.  And the words that leap to my mind are I’m not.  When that happens I—and we—have a choice: to give in and collect validation for that theme or remind myself—ourselves—of all that we are doing.  

I get down on myself when I’m with a group of women who are on fire about their eating and exercising, they are committed, die-hard, and inspiring.  I find that I’m telling myself, I’m not that way.  I’m not as disciplined.  I couldn’t commit to that kind of lifestyle.  I couldn’t do a workout that hard. Or run that far. But instead I’ve decided to remind myself… but I am exercising.  And I do try to be careful about what I eat.  And this is just where I am right now.

I was talking to some friends lately about questions that I have about the temple.  They seem to have all the answers.  I initially felt dumb and lazy for even asking and started to tell myself, I guess I’m not there yet.  Instead I told myself, but I am going.  I am committed to learning. I don’t have a clue what’s going on, but I’m there every week.  And I’m sure someday I’ll figure things out.  For now, I am where I am.

We’re not the kind of family to have grand discussions about our scripture reading. I wish we were.  I’m just pleased that we even make the effort.   We’re not fast or that engaged, it’s nothing memorable or even very touching.  But we’re doing it. (Mostly.) We are sticking with it.

I’m not a stellar housekeeper. I’ve never had a super clean house.  It’s mostly picked up.  But there is always dog hair.  And it doesn’t always smell awesome (maybe partly because of the dogs and partly because I cook with a lot of onions and garlic?).  But I try.  I do make an effort.  And, if nothing else (actually above all else), I hope it feels comfy, welcoming, and like home to all who stop by or stay with us.  I am ok with messes.  Some aren’t I guess. 

I see my friend’s quilts and amazing sewn creations and I awe.  I’m not a great seamstress. I wish so much I could be like her.  I covet her skill and creativity and talent, I’ll admit it.  But I have to remind myself.  I am a quilt maker too.  They just aren’t very difficult.  Or fancy.  They’re mostly because we needed some napping blankets.  I haven’t put in the time to develop that hobby.  But I am interested.  And dappling in it.

I’m not very developed in my writing.  Something else I would love to become good at.  But I am trying.  Simply and only because I do it.  I am putting my words out there.  I am practicing.  By being true to my voice, by taking a chance, by sharing my experiences. While I’m not a great writer, I am not hiding my thoughts, I’m exploring what it feels like to express myself.

I’m not a very fast reader.  I’m not a very intelligent reader.  I don’t read hard stuff. But I remind myself I am a reader.  Just a little slower than most. I may not understand the classics, but I love non-fiction, especially current social issues and biographies.  I may not be a good reader, but I am a consistent reader.

I’ve always been embarrassed by my more serious personality, it’s no secret that I’m not super outgoing or fun.  I never have been.  But I am a true friend. Safe.  And dependable.  So maybe that counts.

I’m not a very adventurous cook.  Or a great cook.  I’m just not that interested in it.  But I am persistent.  I make dinner for my family almost every night of the week.  I’ll cook for anyone, bring treats or food to anything, make dinner for whoever needs it.  So while it’s not the most exciting or tasty, there is almost always plenty.  I am willing.

I’d love to be the kind to adopt.  Or foster.  But I’m not.  At least not in the foreseeable future.  I’m aware of the need, I have friends who are naturals, and I’m torn between feeling inspired and guilty.  But as I welcomed another dog into our home this afternoon, for a total of four at the moment, I reminded myself that, for whatever it’s worth, I am willing to house animals, no problem. Not everyone would be ok with the chaos and smell and mess; I am.

And so it goes.  I think we tend to berate or belittle ourselves for all that we aren’t.  What we aren’t doing or what we haven’t become.  But I believe that’s just a waste of time.  We would be better off dismissing the negative chatter.  Let’s cheer ourselves on and remind ourselves of our unique gifts and personalities and perspectives.  I know you are all doing amazing work within your various spheres of influence, so instead of looking around at what we aren’t doing, let’s instead look at all we are.