Don’t Send me Your Snow

This is such fun I don’t know if I’m going to get anything else done now I’ve started blogging. Yesterday I had to stop for awhile as all the trees on my block had sent their October leaves directly to my yard. I only have two trees whereas my neighbors have nine. I counted them. Yet only a few leaves litter their yards! Therefore, it was their leaves I was mowing and blowing and raking yesterday! I won’t complain as one must get along with the neighbors but they’d better not send their snow over here this winter or I might have to say something.

My laundry has piled up too. The hamper was full two days ago so now a pile of dirty clothes sit on top of it. I keep meaning to stop and sort them, put a load in the wash, but I keep thinking of things to write about. I wake up in the mornings about four-thirty and my mind is buzzing with things I want to say.  The thought that keeps recurring to me is how we need to make our outsides match our insides.

For most of my life I thought if people really knew me they wouldn’t like me, which might be true, except now I don’t care. That’s the nice part about getting older, things that used to bother me appear unimportant compared with the joy of being myself.

It took a long time to get to this point. I remember the first time I truly realized someone didn’t like me. Oh my, it hurt! Why didn’t she like me? What was wrong with me (or her) etc? Suddenly it hit me. Nobody has any obligation to like anyone else. And it was okay. I was free to not like her too (so there!).

But I only speak of the fear of being disliked because it makes us afraid to let others see who we really are. In fact, it makes us afraid to become who we are truly meant to be. It stifles our development, limiting our choices to the safe zones. Beyond this zone that everyone apparently agrees on lies the danger of being different, of not being “normal”. And this is the root fear at the bottom of the whole thing, this fear of not being normal. But the opposite of normal is not, as one would think, abnormal. No, normal means average and its opposite is exceptional.

So dare to be different. Dare to be yourself, inside out. Dare to be exceptional. You’ll be glad you did. But whatever you do, don’t send me your snow this winter.  I think my yard is already littered with leaves, this time from trees on the next block.  I haven’t counted them yet.  I’ll do that when I walk Winston, and I’ll let him pee on them.

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