a big thanks. To putting up with my commiserations last post. Who was that? I don't know. But it generated some sweet emails and comments and...I feel loved. and less defined by things that I don't "have" right now. That wasn't my intent, but you guys are just the best for it. After I wrote that post, I went for my version of a therapist session....two hours of me and the roads. and I realized a few things.
No one can make me feel inferior without my consent. Smart lady, that Eleanor Roosevelt. She's right. I let someone else get to me and to define what "success" is. We all have our version of success, and what it means in our lives. I'm usually pretty spot on if I'm there out of my own accord, and really don't need someone that has a tiny glimpse of my life to judge it. And then I thought about that. A glimpse. That's all we get 99% of the time. Facebook. Twitter. Coffee dates. They showcase about one dinky little percent of our lives that we mean to show the world. Usually it's not very accurate. and it's almost always completely polarized - all roses or all thorns. I don't know her world, why should I let it define mine?
Back in high school (was that really 18 years ago???) someone told me once that wise people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about people. Granted, he was actually talking about me in a not so nice way so do what you will with that, but in his own way, he was right (we got over that fight and are still buddies, no worries). So I thought about ideas. If I was so bothered by this woman, what did I think was missing in my life? I had a friend that worked at Lululemon...it was a damn cult, but they had each of their employees work up 1/5/10 year plans for their lives. So I started to dream. What did I want to do in a year? In 5? And not just career or money wise...where did I see myself in my relationships? In my hobbies? With my friends and family? Hmmm. So I sketched it out a bit (I need a recorder when I run). I'm still thinking about it, but it seems that lousy coffee date might have given me a little kick to get a few things done for myself. (No, I still can't pick a candidate. and law school is NOT in my future).
So...TDLR; it was a good run. and of course, I came back to a yelling toddler and a hungry baby...dinner to make and a shower (yes, I showered) to grab. And I promptly forgot about this post.
Until last night.Well, Sunday I mean :-)
Our team, the Panthers, were in the Superbowl. I say that loosely, because it was a ridiculously horrible game in which I'm quite sure a high school football team could have taken either team. Peyton Manning...well, I can throw a ball better than that. And Cam Newton, our quarterback....well, lets just say that his evil twin Stan (a long time joke) was probably on the field. I don't guess to know what was happening in his life at that point, but I saw a football player who loved life and the game all season just show up and hate his passion. And not even when he was down by two scores...but the whole game. He wasn't having fun. He didn't enjoy being there. And it wrecked the whole night for him and his team (granted, everyone looked scared out there. But Cam was the leader). Somehow, something got under his skin and he decided for better or worse to stop being Cam. And it was his undoing.
People are now calling judgement, labelling him cocky and a sore loser. and he definitely did NOT handle himself well, there's no doubt about that. But for better or worse,he let someone else define him for sixty minutes of one of the most important days of his life. and the results were terrible.
So I'm done with that.Next post, back to blogging me. I've enjoyed our dear diary moment and won't hide my crumbs, I promise, but I will share the cookies (spoiler alert) and talk about my training, kiddos, and "how to play" inspiration. And maybe a goal or two in there that I picked up from this experience. I leave you with...
No one can make me feel inferior without my consent. Smart lady, that Eleanor Roosevelt. She's right. I let someone else get to me and to define what "success" is. We all have our version of success, and what it means in our lives. I'm usually pretty spot on if I'm there out of my own accord, and really don't need someone that has a tiny glimpse of my life to judge it. And then I thought about that. A glimpse. That's all we get 99% of the time. Facebook. Twitter. Coffee dates. They showcase about one dinky little percent of our lives that we mean to show the world. Usually it's not very accurate. and it's almost always completely polarized - all roses or all thorns. I don't know her world, why should I let it define mine?
Back in high school (was that really 18 years ago???) someone told me once that wise people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about people. Granted, he was actually talking about me in a not so nice way so do what you will with that, but in his own way, he was right (we got over that fight and are still buddies, no worries). So I thought about ideas. If I was so bothered by this woman, what did I think was missing in my life? I had a friend that worked at Lululemon...it was a damn cult, but they had each of their employees work up 1/5/10 year plans for their lives. So I started to dream. What did I want to do in a year? In 5? And not just career or money wise...where did I see myself in my relationships? In my hobbies? With my friends and family? Hmmm. So I sketched it out a bit (I need a recorder when I run). I'm still thinking about it, but it seems that lousy coffee date might have given me a little kick to get a few things done for myself. (No, I still can't pick a candidate. and law school is NOT in my future).
So...TDLR; it was a good run. and of course, I came back to a yelling toddler and a hungry baby...dinner to make and a shower (yes, I showered) to grab. And I promptly forgot about this post.
Until last night.Well, Sunday I mean :-)
Our team, the Panthers, were in the Superbowl. I say that loosely, because it was a ridiculously horrible game in which I'm quite sure a high school football team could have taken either team. Peyton Manning...well, I can throw a ball better than that. And Cam Newton, our quarterback....well, lets just say that his evil twin Stan (a long time joke) was probably on the field. I don't guess to know what was happening in his life at that point, but I saw a football player who loved life and the game all season just show up and hate his passion. And not even when he was down by two scores...but the whole game. He wasn't having fun. He didn't enjoy being there. And it wrecked the whole night for him and his team (granted, everyone looked scared out there. But Cam was the leader). Somehow, something got under his skin and he decided for better or worse to stop being Cam. And it was his undoing.
People are now calling judgement, labelling him cocky and a sore loser. and he definitely did NOT handle himself well, there's no doubt about that. But for better or worse,he let someone else define him for sixty minutes of one of the most important days of his life. and the results were terrible.
So I'm done with that.Next post, back to blogging me. I've enjoyed our dear diary moment and won't hide my crumbs, I promise, but I will share the cookies (spoiler alert) and talk about my training, kiddos, and "how to play" inspiration. And maybe a goal or two in there that I picked up from this experience. I leave you with...
Baby love. Cause we all need it :-). Hugs.
No comments:
Post a Comment