In the early morning, I usually work at home from my desk that faces our house’s back window. It’s on the second floor of what used to be the entertainment room for our kids when they were roosting up there. Now that they’ve flown, I converted that into a comfortable study area. I like it because of the view; the knobs and pasture nourish my soul while I write.
Then, in the later afternoon, when the sun starts bearing down on my desk, I migrate to a vacant bedroom whose windows face the other side of the house. I’ve converted that into a study, too.
When it’s time to meet with someone, we make arrangements, and I show up; when I need to minister to someone, I do my best to be available.
The COVID-19 Crisis has taught me that I get more work done at home alone in a shorter time than I did at the office. Admittedly, this necessitated some mental adjustments for me, partly because I wondered what “they” would think if “they” didn’t see my car in the parking lot.
Then one of my friends reminded me that “they” aren’t around to criticize.
I exhaled emotionally, although cognitively, I had been aware of it.
Sometimes you need to be reminded that there are people you do not need in your life. I call their absence, Blessed Subtractions.
But, let me warn you, it’s not as easy as you may think to let them go. Negative voices have a way of reverberating in the echo chambers of your mind, even after exiting your presence.
Often, when I write, I think of how certain people will respond. Will that person understand what I’m trying to say? How will that help her? Will this move him?
While that concept can be helpful, I had one person who never liked anything I wrote. No matter what I put on paper or what I spoke, it wasn’t going to fly with that person. Visualizing this person’s response was cramping and confining. It did me absolutely no good. So finally, I fired that person from my mental audience, and while I was at it, I threw out a few other poisonous participants as well. I just kicked them out of the auditorium and banned them from reentering. In an instant, I felt a new freedom and new happiness; I would like to think my work became more creative. Certainly, my contributions were more enjoyable.
I’ve read that something like 10% of the people you know are not going to like you no matter what you do. It’s just automatic. No matter how hard you try to please them, no matter what changes you make for them, they won’t accept you. But, in the process of working for their approval, you sacrifice a part of your authenticity for people who won’t receive you because you are who you are.
Somebody said, “If your number one goal is to make sure that everyone likes and approves of you, then you risk sacrificing your uniqueness, and, therefore, your excellence.”
It’s a fact. I like the way Dr. Seuss put it: “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
So, I can thank the COVID-19 Crisis for reminding me in a real-life way what I already knew: there is no one youer than you. And it’s a true tragedy when we sacrifice who we are meant to be for people who won’t like us no matter what.
So, now, I think I will move to my other desk by the back window unless I decide to take a 15-minute nap on the way, and if that doesn’t meet with your approval, perhaps you might remember,
I’m just being Me, as Me’re a Me, as I can be.