by Tracey Flower
It’s a new year. 2012 has arrived. It’s only Week 1 but so far it’s feeling pretty good.
As I was mulling over my options for resolutions this year, I stumbled on this post (Jenny Blake Inspires—White Lies) by Grace Boyle at Small Hands, Big Ideas and it inspired me to take a different direction when it comes to personal reflection in 2012.
There are things about myself I worked on in 2011; there were goals I worked toward, and some I even achieved. There are things I want to work on in 2012; I suppose we can call them resolutions. The thing is, though, there are always things in my life I want to work on or work toward. I talk about them here every now and then, and check in with myself on a regular basis to see how I'm going.
What I don’t often talk about are my flaws, the quirks and faults that make me ME. Charming or annoying as they may be, they are mine and, rather than resolve to change or fix them this year, I want to share them and embrace them, because quite frankly, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I can do to be rid of them, and I’m certain there is strength to be gained in accepting them. So here are 6 mini confessions by yours truly.
1. I’m not a very good snowboarder. Nor am I a very good athlete in general. Never have been. This is not to say I’m not fond of sports and things athletic and adventurous—I love being outside and participating in outdoor activities—I just have no aptitude for athletic stuff. I live in the largest ski resort in North America (Vail), also the fittest county (Eagle) in the country, snowboarding and skiing are kind of a big deal here. Athletic success in adventure and endurance sports is valued here. I try many of these sports. I’m not very good at a single one. I’m regularly wracked with insecurity because of it.
2. I’M A LOUD TALKER. So is my dad. I’ll just go ahead and blame that one on him.
3. I’m a neat freak. Not to be confused with a germaphobe. I don’t obsessively wash my hands or over-sanitize. It’s more to do with liking things a certain way—everything in my house and my workspace has its place, and I don’t like it when things aren’t in their place. I like things clean and tidy. You know Monica on "Friends?" It’s kind of (exactly) like that.
4. I’m not totally OK with being single. I’m lonely. I’m not in any rush to be married. Nor am I yearning for a family—I’m not even sure I want children. I just want a partner. Don’t get me wrong; I am not unhappy with my single life. I have a very fulfilling life with a promising future—I know what I want from my life and for myself and I’m fully prepared to go after all if it even if it’s just me on my own. If I'm single for 10 more years, or even for all of my years, I’m sure I will die content and happy, having traveled and written and lived. I’m not in a desperate hunt to acquire a boyfriend; I’m just recognizing that this loneliness exists. I’m also not trying to fill it with anything other than companionship. If it never gets filled, I can live with that, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be totally OK with it.
5. I don’t drive. I know how to drive. I have a driver’s license. I am fully capable of operating a motor vehicle, but I prefer not to. The last time I drove was in May (2011), the time before that was the previous May (2010). I should note that I don’t own a car (for financial reasons) and, while I admit that I often wish I could afford to own one so I could enjoy the freedom that comes with being able to take oneself anywhere on no one else’s schedule, I hate driving and it makes me terribly nervous. Oh, I also find it impossible to stay awake as a passenger in a moving car. I’m usually out cold within the first 15-20 minutes. Yes, I’m that person.
6. I’m a chronic (champion) procrastinator. For the record I’ve never met a writer who isn’t. It goes like this: I have a chunk of time that has been set aside for writing, that should, for all purposes be used for writing, but the deadline is still another day or two away, or at the very least a few hours away. I sit down to write and crank out a title or a sentence then—wait!—I should probably sweep the kitchen floor (see number 3) or shop for curtains online or OH MY! that’s a big bird outside my window, I should probably take a photo.
Whew! That felt good. Your turn.
