Brene Brown and goofiness- My inspiration for July 2023!
I suffer, like some of you, from a feeling that I’m never quite enough. Never quite close enough to perfect. Never successful enough, never thoughtful enough, never as good at organizing my day as others. Never as good at keeping up with clients, or deadlines, or my old friends, or giving enough time to my husband or my grandsons or my kids.
I generally start my morning thinking that I should have gotten up an hour earlier (even though today I got up at 4:45, I know for sure there’s someone else out there who got up at 4 a.m. They’re already through with the workout that I’m sure I should do, but will I get to it? Nah, probably not). I should have made my list last night. I should have the clearest purpose in mind.
Never mind that I’m a pretty decent spouse, mom and grandmother. I’m a six figure a year Realtor without giving that endeavor the time it deserves. I’m an okay friend. I’m recognized on the streets of Santa Fe because I strategically advertise. For an old gal (62 right now), I do a great job of maintaining an online presence. I throw great parties and I lead one of the most successful nonprofits in New Mexico, both in terms of fundraising and direct help to cancer patients (check it out here: CFFNM.Org )
Oh, and there’s a podcast that you’ll find here. I wrote a book on gratitude last year.
And why isn’t this enough?
You got me. I’m still figuring it out. I’m still striving, striving, striving.
Except that I’ve just about convinced myself to stop all the craziness. Not that I plan to give up the things I mentioned above. I just plan to start being more wholehearted in my recognition of the joy in my life. And in creating more.
I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I picked up Brene Brown’s “The Gifts of Imperfection” this morning to read in the hot tub (yes, my life includes a hot tub under a blue Santa Fe sky. No reason for anyone, least of all me, to feel sorry for myself). I’ve skimmed it before in some life iteration when I was studying how to be better and more or less perfect. It’s a lifelong goal, evidently.
Here’s What Brene said that caught my eye (along with pages and pages of other gems):
‘When we value being cool and in control over granting ourselves the freedom to unleash the passionate, goofy, heartfelt, and soulful expressions of who we are, we betray ourselves. When we consistently betray ourselves, we can expect to do the same to the people we love.” P. 123
No one who knows me in this life would believe that I betray myself on a regular basis, but I’ve been doing it for decades. Since junior high, if not before. I am a passionate, goofy, heartfelt and soulful person, but I regularly put that persona in the closet so that I can look like the perfect, professional version I think my world will more readily accept.
In junior high and high school, I missed hundreds of opportunities to be silly and inquisitive in favor of being one of the cool kids. My husband and I talk about this frequently, how we wish we had seized those chances at fun rather than hanging back to see what everyone else did. I was a cliche of uber cool, and a bit of a mean girl, all in the name of “cool.”
This is a process, friends. It’s time for a change. It’s time to unleash the silly junior kid in me!
Today I choose to start treating my goofy, fun and joyful self with more respect. July 1 is the start of the Foundation’s fiscal year, so it’s a good jumping off point for me. If I can’t be joy filled and passionate in that role, or in my other professional, public roles, perhaps I’ll need to give up those roles.
Because the only role I want to play this year isn’t a role. It’s a gratitude-filled, goofy, joyful and self-accepting role.
I want to be a Gratitude Nerd.
Stick around. I’ll keep you posted on how it’s going. You’re invited to join me. I’ll provide you with something I’m grateful for on a regular basis and we can be joyful, goofy Gratitude Nerds together.
Let me know in the comments how you plan to celebrate your nerdiness this week.
Bunny Terry is a native New Mexican who grew up on a farm in northeastern New Mexico. Her first writing job was typing stories on index cards on her family’s Underwood, stories that were uncannily like the ones she read over and over in O Ye’ Jigs and Julips, her favorite childhood book. No one thought to save those index cards for posterity, although there is the theory sarcastically circulated by her siblings that they will certainly be worth millions someday. 