Her email arrived yesterday, but I didn’t open it until this morning. There are some people in my life for whom I need to make space. My Aunt Karen is one of those people. I need the space and the time to receive her gifts because they are always genuine in nature, and if I am careless with them, I won’t fully appreciate her intentions.
Loved this from on wordsmith to another. My favorite word – maybe… Little inspiration and love on a chilly day. Hope this brings a smile to your face.
I proceeded to open the gift which led me here. My new glossary will serve as fodder for future blogs. I clicked on the words. I agreed with her. Maybe was a great place to start. I was in a maybe place yesterday. I said yes to an opportunity, and the search firm said yes to me, which is a great feeling. The role would bring a lot of changes. A lot of what if’s that I would have to work out. But I was confident that they would work all out; a belief affirmed by my rapport with the search consultant. Our conversation was lovely, despite me rambling at one point. She said a few things that stuck with me, one in particular that I didn’t fully appreciate until this morning. It was something like this, “Karen, you’ve had a remarkable career, but I think maybe the role is too small for you.” I listened. I was grateful for her candor.
I spoke with my friend Karin before I went to sleep. I shared with her the news of the interview. She echoed the consultant’s words. A good night’s sleep helped me fully hear the sincerity of their words. It was not the first time I heard those words. It was about three years ago when a recruiter expressed the same sentiment. I convinced myself his words were unimportant and irrelevant. But they were both. Within 90 days of accepting that position, I was gone. I didn’t fit.
Reruns in life are our own fault. They are lessons that we have yet to learn. They replay over and over until we accept the truth about who we are. So maybe I wanted to pack up, to sell the house, to leave Illinois, and to start over. Maybe I wanted to be an ambassador to this national treasure. Maybe that’s not what is in the cards for me. Maybe I need to accept that. And so I did.
I sent my thank you note this morning. After which, I read my Aunt’s email, I went to the glossary, and clicked through the words until I stopped here.
I love to write. I buried this gift for a long time. I unearthed it last year, since then I wrote, “for me writing is to thinking as thinking is to thinking for others”. I know that to be true. Whether through my own words via this blog or the words that make up the strategies that outline tactics that will trumpet a cause, a mission, or an action, I know my gift lies in the art of words.
I spoke with my mom the other night. I shared with her some recent experiences where friends told me they did something, they accepted a new challenge, they started a new project, they found joy through something which I gave them. I did so selflessly, yet thoughtfully and purposefully, because when I find joy, even in its most minuscule amount, I want to share it. And when I find a friend who is on the cusp of experiencing joy, then I will wrap my arm around theirs and help carry them over the threshold. Yes, it is effortless. “You have a gift, Karen,” she said and added that it’s how we give that makes it most meaningful. We agreed: When we give for the joy of giving, we receive tenfold in return.
I’ve also learned that our gifts are our own treasures that can attract some unwanted attention. We need to be both judicious and kind in how and who we use our gifts with. It’s kind of like a superpower. And for me, people living in a negative place tend to gravitate to me. Yes, they are like kryptonite. They drain me, depress me, distress me, and deplete me. I feel betwixt and between; God wants me to help them yet I need to find a way to do so without hindering myself. That may be grace, that may be patience, nonetheless, I’m unsure. Maybe there is another word in that glossary that will enlighten me on this journey. Just maybe.