Gratitude * Sunday
Sunday’s heartfelt tradition.
A time to slow down, to reflect, to be grateful.
A list of gratitudes, our gratefulness feeds one another.
Quoted from Taryn Wilson
Joining the Gratitude Sunday Tradition at Wooly Moss Roots.
August sun shifts in
sky travels northward again
toward shorter days.
One of my favorite gal pals reads my blog posts regularly and she told me she was mystified by last week’s Gratitude Sunday post. This made me laugh because for her it’s true. We know each other well at this point and are comfortable enough to tell each other the truth.
My social skills are not great and I have trust issues, but I think I know myself pretty well and I know how to own my own mistakes, though I’m not so good at owning my successes. I consider myself straightforward and transparent. What you see is what you get.
I forgot to remind her we swam in the same pool for months before introducing ourselves. Our favorite time in the pool is a certain night when it’s quiet, just the two of us, and we started chatting a little, then we chatted a lot, then she did me the favor of letting me vent, and I became nosy enough to ask about her family. It’s been a long process. Not like we were instant BFFs.
We’ve become dinner-out buddies. She likes to go out to dinner. I like to go out to dinner every two months or so. The hubster doesn’t like going out much and he’s not fun to be around when he hasn’t liked the meal or the service. The son at 21 still doesn’t care to be seen in public with his mom. Dinner buddy and I don’t care. We try new places, we analyze. Sometimes we think we might want to go back, sometimes not. But we have fun.
We order what we want and share tastes of the dishes we order. We talk until our mouths are sore. We share our concerns about ourselves and our family. We fix the world and our problems. We laugh until we can’t see straight and are wiping tears from our eyes. We don’t care what people think as we yak our heads off. We close down the restaurant. We talk for another hour in the parking lot.
Why so different from what I said last week? Because we’ve taken the time between us to create trust. She’s a shy person who hides behind a piano, and I’m a shy, sensitive, caring person who hides behind a counter and a laptop. There are all kinds of people in this world and some of us are introverts. Introverts are thoughtful people who are more comfortable with fewer people in quieter settings. Extroverts are perky people who love crowds and new situations.
This world takes all kinds and that’s ok. Susan Cain’s book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking gives a better explanation of the difference, and the value of introverts. The notion of conforming to change oneself from introvert to extrovert doesn’t work for me; you can’t change your core. Pressure to conform is a form of bullying. As a society, or as individuals, we don’t have to behave like this. Enjoy Susan Cain’s Ted Talk about introverts here and her suggestions for how to change the paradigm to take advantage of the intelligence of all kinds of people.
As much as we know each other, how much do we really know each other? Even if we had all the time in the world to share, all the stories and all the secrets that make up our minds and bodies could never be revealed. And thank God we’re not in each other’s heads; that would be just too much noise in my brain. My own brain noise is plenty, thank you very much.
I appreciated my gal pal’s comment. It gave me one more thing to think about, about how we choose to reveal ourselves, what stories we choose to tell about ourselves and to ourselves. I was happy she felt comfortable enough with me to say so. And I’m glad she understands.
Color Watch – blooming attractions in my neighborhoods this week – a pale patch of pinks; a border of pink and white geraniums; last year’s tiny dried brown pine cones and bright green fresh new growth pine parts; blue-violet volunteer faces growing from a pile of organic debris between the curb and the asphalt; creamy white yucca; I don’t know what this pinkish purple is but it’s pretty against the white daisies; a river of pink petunias; regal magenta gladiolas; an abundance of pine cones – my uncle used to gather these in a paper bag and let them dry then use the bags full of dried pine cones as fire starters in his woodstove; a crafting size pine cone nearly big as my foot; a pinkish sedum blossom; colorful chrysanthemums; Spanish lavender’s purple flower with feathery wings; a pretty pot of color wedged between the front porch steps and the hosta; bright yellow marigolds.
Currently Reading – The Dud Avocado (1958, Elaine Dundy); The Fluoride Deception (2006, medical politics) by Christopher Bryson; A Fighting Chance (2014, political science) by Elizabeth Warren; Man’s Search for Meaning (1946, psychology) by Viktor E. Frankl. Yes, concurrently. Check out my From Me 2 U Book Review page.
This week I have been grateful for:
- My pool pal, who does me the kindness of listening and sharing her own stories.
- Fresh simple food.
- The neighbors quietly moving out with little noise, fanfare, or drama.
- The owner of the house next door taking the time to ask about replacing the fence between the two houses and didn’t just cut down my grape vine which is what happened last time the fence was replaced (not by this person). The grape vine is badly overgrown, and in need of pruning and he has kindly agreed to wait until late winter after the proper time for me to prune the vine. If he doesn’t follow through I think it is probably so overgrown it could be cut it to the ground and it would spring back.
- Hardy grape vines that can take abuse.
- Trying to teach myself something new on my blog. It’s slow going, but the light bulb will go on soon, I hope.
- A couple of strangers of Facebook telling me they enjoyed my comments.
- My brother coming over for a short visit.
- Fans and open doors in the evening.
- The abundance of fresh produce available in the stores and farmer’s markets.
- The pungent flavors of cilantro and parsley added to chicken salad.
- Vicariously visiting Iceland, Russia, Haiti, Miami, mid-west America, and Paris, France through summer reading.
- That hour after everybody goes to bed when all I hear is the quiet noise of the fridge and soft snores fill the house: hubster, son, cat.
Hoping you have a lovely week.
Namaste. Peace. Blessings.
Floral ribbon border by Laurel Burch