Just Show Up
Going through my files, getting my home office cleared out so painters could come in, I found an early university essay about Daring Greatly. We had been challenged in this Humanities Class, to find where in our lives we had been Daring. As I read it over, I was filled with nostalgia, sadness and pride that each came in separate waves, one replacing the other.
“Daring was what fuelled me. There was a time when I was so beaten down by life that daring was the furthest things from my mind. That reticence came had come from my older brother’s taunting me to ‘Be brave!’ Or ‘I dare you!’. A stubborn child, determined to prove that I was as tough as he was I would promptly fall in a mud puddle - that was really more of a mud hole - or step through a mound of snow because he said ‘Don’t be such a chicken there’s a rock in it, silly!’ After a while I became the timid tentative person that even I don’t like to be around. But there was no way I was being going to be fooled again. What’s the old saying? “Once fooled, twice shy?” Well it had taken me too many times to make me shy away from things and people, but I got so tired of not trusting anything and, quite frankly, bored. Do you have any idea how boring it is to be watching all the time for the other shoe - or shoes - to drop, usually on my head. There is no time to have anything remotely like fun. So I started small, in my own home where no one could see me. No one could laugh at me if I didn’t get it right the first time or even the second time. No one to get angry with me - except me of course - if I made a mess of whatever project I had taken on. How long did it take me to get daring? It seemed like a forever, forever journey. But one day, when I looked up from the most recent project - refinishing my bedroom furniture - I realized that I had actually dared to take the time to do one tiny piece of furniture at a time in my little apartment until here I was in the middle of my bedroom floor, my tools and paint all around me, daring to continue changing my life. That may not sound like much to you - refinishing furniture - but I had to step outside of myself to talk to the people at the hardware stores, research online, practice on-line lessons and actually make my own schedule for getting each little job done. Sometimes that involved saying no to a morning outing, suggesting the afternoon would be more acceptable."
Picking up my cooling coffee, I thought about the topic Daring Greatly and had I, in my life, taken my lessons and done anything about them. Daring greatly had always sounded so extroverted. As a solid, dyed in the wool introvert, daring greatly was opening my mouth and actually letting my words enter the world, desperately hoping they made sense. Daring greatly meant making a plan and following through. Daring greatly meant if at anytime the plan seemed to be going south, stopping long enough to evaluate and fix the old plan. Daring greatly meant shifting things around, if the goal still looked worthy, so timing or tools could be improved. I’m not suggesting that I was such an introvert that I was going to hide away from life because I was scared. Now, at 85 years old that introversion has died a long and painful death. But after living life so carefully, following the pack because they must know where they are going, it is still hard to not keep spinning my tires. Daring greatly has meant discovering that if I listened to that still small voice nudging my soul - not my mind - telling me that the GPS setting of the pack is off for me, different perspectives would open up to me. Daring greatly has been when I have stepped aside from the pack to allow them to go on their way while I have moved forward in my own way. So now, all that re-done furniture has gone the way of the years that have passed. It did look good. No. Better than good when I take that early life into consideration. The things I had to do, the people I had to talk to, the places I went on my own, I can see that at least in the furniture refinishing, I did learned about daring greatly. Each time I put myself out there, just to talk to people, I learned that there really was a rock under the snow and any mud puddle was barely deep enough to get the top of my shoe wet.
My name is Gladys. You’ve been kind to listen to an old woman’s ramblings, so thank you for that. Remember that we all dare greatly every day in big ways and little ways.
“Sometimes the bravest and most important thing
you can do is to just show up.”
~ Brené Brown