Drinking it in

It's raining today: a steady, soaking rain. After a fairly dry summer - we had to water our garden to keep it growing - the trees, grass and shrubs are enjoying the rain.  They are drinking it in gratefully, the leaves perking up where they've been drooping and the grass seeming greener than before.

All of us need that experience of a good, refreshing, cool drink of water ... whether physical or spiritual ... to keep us supple and nourished inside and out. 

It got me to thinking today about what nourishes and feeds me. I have plenty to eat, and clean water to drink, which makes me far richer than over a billion people in the world.  I also have a roof over my head that keeps the extremes of cold and heat out, and more than one outfit to wear - again, more than what billions have - and most days, I take these things for granted!

Photo "Autumn Gold" courtesy of Simon Howden
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

But as Thanksgiving approaches, I find myself feeling gratitude bubbling up from within, for many of the things I normally don't even think about. 

I have so many blessings, not the least of which are those loved ones who live with me: my husband and family (including the four-legged kids too!) who always believe in me, and always look out for my well-being. As Dory said in Finding Nemo, "When I look at you, I'm ... I'm home!" I can't begin to express the degree to which their presence in my life brings me a sense of joy and completion. I only hope that someday they will get an inkling of how important and amazing they are to me.

Sharing the little events of each other's days, the joys and the sorrows, the ups and the downs: these are blessings. Living in the moment, just as creation does, loving every raindrop, every sunbeam, every bit of provision from the Creator, is curiously rejuvenating.  Experiencing all of this with the people I love is quite the trip, and yes, I am drinking it in, like a refreshing thunderstorm after a dry spell. It restores me, makes me whole, and gives me a boost to keep going. I need that, just like I need air ... just like the plants need rain. 

Pariahs in Pain

Watching someone day in and day out who is in chronic pain (like my daughter is - fibromyalgia, stage III osteoarthritis, temporomandibular joint dysfunction, asthma, and chronic cluster vertebrobasilar migraines) can make a person question the purpose of pain and wish that pain didn't exist. 

However, as unpleasant as pain is, it serves an important purpose. Pain is the body's way of signaling the brain that there is a problem and that it needs attention. Without the ability to feel pain, one might get burnt (severely) without knowing it, or ignore a serious - perhaps life-threatening - condition (such as a heart problem or a severe infection in the body that could cause respiratory failure!)

Pain is intended to be an early-warning system that tells us that something needs our immediate attention. When we heed that warning, we can get help before a problem becomes worse, even fatal. When we ignore it, the pain continues and the problem can become much more serious. When pain is chronic, not only does the body suffer, but the mind does as well. Scientists have linked chronic pain to a host of mental illness, most notably depression (see this link to the Mayo Clinic).

When the cause of the pain is obvious, sufferers frequently receive empathy and understanding from those in the medical profession and among their friends and acquaintances. When the pain is hard to pinpoint, or there seems to be no physical reason for it, the empathy tends to fizzle, and judgment begins.  A prior physician firmly believed that our daughter's pain was a clear-cut case of malingering ... which means that he thought she was faking her pain to get benefits. Having lived with her all her life, we knew differently, but unfortunately, this is the reaction some people have to face things that they cannot explain away with pat answers or banish with pills. People want to be around beautiful, healthy people with no problems. They don't want to hear about the daily struggle of having to get out of bed and do things that they take for granted. They ask how you are, but they don't really want to know the truth; it's just a polite noise people make. Rare is the person who will stop and really want to know how you are. It's human nature to want to avoid unpleasant things. The sad side-effect of this is that those who suffer chronic pain or disease (especially if the disability is 'invisible') become the ones nobody wants to associate with, or pariahs. A pariah - for those who don't know - is an outcast, a non-person ... a social leper.

In the same way, those who suffer from chronic emotional pain can also end up becoming pariahs. Emotional pain is like physical pain. Its purpose is to alert us that something is wrong and needs attention. But our society is so performance-oriented and perfectionistic that often, these early warning signs get ignored and the pain goes underground ... only to resurface in areas we weren't expecting.  

Photo "Lonely Woman On
The Beach" by Sira Anamwong
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

Nobody wants to be around someone who is sad or angry, and so we sufferers put on a mask, pretend, and ignore the pain. If folks were more accepting, and more approachable, we might feel more free about being honest about how we feel. But we've learned that the reaction of a great many people is one of condemnation. Sadly, folks seem to only want to know about our pain AFTER it is done and we have dealt with it and moved on, or overcome it. Perhaps if we had just dealt with it and discovered why we were in emotional pain and start to look after ourselves in those areas, the pain might not be there or be as intense. 

Yet by the time it becomes chronic, ignoring those early messages of emotional pain has made us numb to them. The saddest part is that the numbing also numbs the happier, more pleasant emotions as well; our emotional centre can't tell the difference between "good" and "bad" emotions - they're just emotions. So to protect itself, it shuts them ALL down.  The only ones that tend to get through now are the stronger, more violent emotions - like anger, fear, and sadness. Peace and joy and love get suppressed, or worse yet, warped by being filtered through the anger, fear and sadness.

Enter chronic depression, anxiety, and/or post-traumatic stress, depending on the circumstances that led to our pain. Wow. Talk about being a pariah? NOW we're in for it. As intolerant a some folks can be of unexplained physical pain, they seem to be doubly intolerant of emotional pain. This attitude of intolerance is toxic to us. So we withdraw. We isolate. And that just cements their opinion that we aren't worth the effort. They move on to more pleasant encounters. And we get left behind. 

I identify with those in pain because I am in pain. My disabilities are invisible - and sometimes I feel like I am invisible too. All of society seems hell-bent on criticizing and condemning things about me that I consider strengths: my introversion, my sensitivity, my empathy, and the list goes on. I've battled these prejudices all of my life.  And now, because of my invisible ailments like multiple chemical sensitivities, degenerative disc disease, and the like, I find that I am just another pariah in pain. I feel as though I have to explain over and over again why I can't go to events that "everyone" is going to. People assume that I'm antisocial, when truth be told, I just don't want to have to battle invisible clouds that mean nothing to people who aren't affected by artificial scent. Or, I don't want to stand on cement floors and ache for the next three days.  Little matter the reasons. It's part and parcel of the kind of "if you are not like us in every way, then you are not one of us" reasoning. (Don't get me started on that one.)

What am I saying? 

It's okay to hurt, if you hurt. Pain is not a bad thing. It's unpleasant, to be sure, but it is not bad in and of itself.  It is a signal that something is amiss somewhere, and the sooner we pay attention to that, and get help, the better off we are. But just because someone suffers (physical or emotional) pain on a regular basis, that doesn't make them evil or to be avoided or judged.  It makes them in need of understanding, compassion, and acceptance.

Acceptance is key. I wish we all were better at it, but it's not something that comes naturally; we have to work at it. But I figure, until more people are willing to come forward, like I just did, and talk about it, we'll just keep on being pariahs in pain.

Waiting to blossom

Whether winter happens for you in December through March (and here in the Maritimes, it's more the end of April...) or June through August, the colder weather, the reduction in humidity, and especially the shorter days (and therefore less sunlight) can play havoc with people's moods and activity levels. There's a kind of pseudo-hibernation that seeps into the mind and sometimes even the body. 

Where I live, "cocooning" is very common. It's the tendency to hunker down inside the house and not go out except for necessities: groceries, gas, work, possibly church. People don't visit each other - or they have to make a special effort to do so. 

The last couple of months, I've been experiencing this kind of phenomenon more than usual. There's an almost imperceptible sense of being in suspended animation, of 'waiting' for something... sometimes not so patiently.  

About three years ago, I ordered a Hoya carnosa plant from a nursery in Georgia that specializes in those kinds of plants. They sent me three rooted cuttings and I planted them. ONE survived. It grew from a five-inch-long stem with three leaves on it to the size it is today, about four feet long from root to longest tip. 

This kind of plant has to be well established before it will bloom. So, I've been waiting and expecting it to produce bloom clusters - they fill the air with a heady fragrance that is intensified by the nectar that hangs in droplets from the center of each flower. So far ... it has not bloomed. I've seen signs that it's developing the "nibs" from which the flower clusters will eventually grow, but it's happening a lot more slowly than I'd like.

My Hoya - photo taken about three weeks ago

It is healthy; it is growing and sending out shoots, and the foliage is lovely. Yet I find myself wondering when it will blossom.

In a way, I feel like my life is like that plant right now. I know where I want to be, but it's like I'm in a state of pseudo-hibernation. I'm healthy and growing; I know I am ... but it seems the conditions are not right for flowering. 

I know that it will happen. I just don't know when. And there's a large part of me that longs for it to start happening NOW. 

What I need to understand about the plant is that it takes however long it takes ... and that in the meantime, I need to look after what's there. There may be only leaves, but maybe if I focus on keeping them healthy, Mrs. Hoya will surprise me. And the way I keep them healthy is by providing enough light, warmth, and the right amount of water and food to nourish the roots. 

The same applies to me. I just need to make it a priority to look after my growth needs, to nourish my roots (those parts of me that are hidden from view but which are crucial to my spiritual health) and to stay in the warm atmosphere of acceptance, and the light of unconditional love.

Gentle ...

"I never understood it when I was younger," my friend said to me. "But as I get older, the saying 'Be gentle with yourself' makes more and more sense."

I nodded. Rare is the person in our western society, especially in the church it seems, who treats himself or herself as kindly as he or she would treat others. It's part and parcel of our culture, it seems, to be hard on ourselves, to think of ourselves last (believing this to be selfless and altruistic) instead of looking after ourselves so that we have enough in reserve to give to others without burning out! 

I spent years like that, burning out time after time, growing to resent the very people I was trying to help. Decades. It boggles my mind when I think about it. And all the time I was doing that, I thought I was "being a good person" and even "being Christ-like." 

Wrong.

The depth and scope of my self-deception was such that it touched every facet of my existence. 

Typical behaviors included:

• letting everyone else choose what they wanted at a buffet and going in afterward to choose from what everyone else didn't want,
• going into a department store and getting something to wear for everyone in the family except for me,
• supporting and encouraging people who thought so little of themselves that they needed constant affirmation, with little or no change,
• never asking for any time off from my volunteer position at church, even filling in for anyone who was sick or on vacation (when they didn't advise the volunteer coordinator in advance),
• staying in unhealthy relationships far too long, 
• trying to "fix" my family members and friends (veiled as "giving advice" or "caring"),
• beating myself up when I made a mistake and not forgiving myself,
• holding myself back from reaching for my own dreams and aspirations for career or ministry,
• procrastinating on implementing healthy habits for myself,
• putting myself down, criticizing my looks, my abilities, and my possessions ALL THE TIME (which was really a manipulation of other people to make them feel guilty or bad for me, and then they'd tell me nice things about myself to "make me feel better"),
• never saying "No" to the demands of my family and/or friends, and
• never saying "Yes" to what would feed my own spirit or heart.

Me in 2004

I was brought up to believe that self-love was selfISH. However, in the last nearly four years, I've learned that if I don't take the time to be gentle to myself, it not only hurts me but those around me, because I will be running on empty and unable to respond - only react ... and usually not well. 

I'm not talking about pandering to Ego (heard a great acronym for EGO: "Edging God Out") or rather, to Egotism, which is a more accurate term for self-centeredness and arrogance.  I'm talking about recognizing that as much as I want others to feel good about themselves because they are human beings ... I too am a human being and I need to cut myself a break sometimes. I need to be good to myself, to treat myself as I would a friend. 

After all, one of the Great Commandments is to "love your neighbor as yourself." Well, if I loathe myself, and do everything in my power to sabotage myself, I won't know how to love my neighbor, will I?

Hmm. That thought keeps occurring to me. It must be important.

So, for the last three and a half years especially, I've been doing more and more to look after myself, to follow my dreams, to work toward what I want for my life, to draw boundaries where before I didn't even know I had a right to them, to say "No" once in a while, and to make time for myself on a regular basis. 

It all makes a difference. My life today as compared to four years ago is ... well, simply astonishing to me. The best thing is - and I have to credit being gentle with myself for part of it - for the first time in my life, I feel comfortable inside my own skin and I am actually ... happy.

Nobody is more surprised about that than I am.  :D

Close to home

I was doing what I normally do late in the evening: watching TV, keeping an eye on facebook, and chatting back and forth with my husband from time to time, when I heard her voice from the corner of the room.  Oh, she's home early from her night out with friends, I thought.  Slowly, I turned my attention away from my TV program to what she was saying, because her tone of voice sounded ... I dunno ... "off." 

My instincts were correct.  She was crying softly.  Her boyfriend was wiping her tears from her face.  His arm was around her.

I caught something she said about an accident with a car as she talked to her sister.  At first, I thought that she was the one who'd been in an accident. (Instant adrenaline.  Whoa Nellie, she's standing right there; she's fine.)  Then I heard her refer to "him" and "his family" - and understood that it was one of her friends who'd been in the accident.  She and her boyfriend had come upon the accident while they were out - stopped because they recognized the vehicle - and saw their injured friend, and spoke with the paramedics as they worked.  Or with the patient - I wasn't clear on that part. My daughter was understandably shaken; they both were as they stood there explaining the scene to us.

The young man wasn't killed, but could very well have been, given the circumstances of the accident: the lady driving the car and turning left didn't see him on his motorbike even though he was right in front of her and HE had the right of way because he was going straight ahead. Her car struck him on his left side and sent him flying - the impact dislocated his left hip (OUCH), gashed his left thigh deeply, missing his femoral artery by a few inches, and (at this point) the doctors are even thinking he might have gotten whiplash to his neck when he landed on the pavement. The bike was totaled, of course. They resolved the hip dislocation last evening (ouch AGAIN), and then took him to surgery to repair the damage to his thigh muscle.  He's still in hospital, and called them this morning when he awoke. And I'm sure that in another hour, his friends (including my daughter) will all be by his side during visiting hours until the hospital personnel say that visiting hours are over and it's time to go home. 

Got this photo HERE

After she and her boyfriend went to another part of the house last night to man the phones and arrange overnight visits and such, my thoughts dwelt on that young man and his family.  I couldn't stop myself from thinking about how I would feel if it was MY kid laying on a gurney, having to have his hip snapped back into its socket, and then lined up for surgery - and looking at months of physiotherapy to recover and regain range of motion again.  I began to pray for him and his family ... and to thank God intensely for the fact that it WASN'T my kid in the hospital.  

Sometimes all it takes is a tragedy (or a near-tragedy) not even happening to us, but happening that close to home, for us to realize just how much we take for granted on a daily basis.  

My husband and I were pretty somber when we went to bed last night.  And we talked about how we might complain about this behavior and that behavior, but when push comes to shove, we'd be right there beside our youngsters if either one of them needed us.  And we started counting our blessings - something we hadn't been doing for a while: long overdue, in fact. 

The experience being that "close to home" made us incredibly grateful, mostly that:
- the young man was NOT killed.
- it wasn't our kid(s) who got hurt.  (I know, selfish, but it is what it is...)
- our daughter cared that much about her friends that she was willing to drop everything she was planning to do, in order to be there for them.
- she trusted us enough to tell us what was happening and to be real in front of us without fear of being judged. 

If more people had friends like her, if more people WERE friends like her, perhaps the world wouldn't be in the mess it is in right now.  I'm so proud of the way she has handled this whole thing: feeling what she is feeling, showing her concern, and making herself available to meet whatever need existed.  And of how she is following up with her presence, to show her support and her love.

I'm so glad SHE's close to home, too.

... and I in mine

The world is turning into this ginormous village where we see nearly simultaneously what's happening on the opposite side of the globe - where fewer and fewer places are unseen, unreported.  There is so much suffering in so many places by so many people groups - it's hard to know where to start when the collection plate passes, or when the folks come around canvassing for this or that cause.  

Many people think that unless they do something spectacular or give a lot of money to alleviate hunger or thirst in a third world country, or go on a missions trip to a different continent, that they are not doing what they can.  This kind of thinking is fostered in our global village.  But sometimes in trying not to miss the forest for the trees, we miss the trees for the forest.

I'm not saying that those causes - whatever they are and however noble they are - aren't worthy.  Far from it.  But I am saying that we needn't allow others to make us feel guilty if we DON'T go, if we DON'T give to this or that foreign charity across the ocean.

A friend of mine is raising money for a cause that is near and dear to her - being a cancer survivor and seeing how people spend a lot of money to be near their loved ones through such a tough time, well, she's doing what she can.  Here's her blog post on that.  That's not in a foreign country to her - it's close to home. 

There are dozens of people in my own city who don't have a home.  There are even more - including children - RIGHT HERE - who go to bed hungry.  Who wonder where the next meal is going to come from ... and when.  Who are starting over from scratch, having lost everything to alcohol, to abuse, to debt, to unemployment.  And in this city there are organizations that help such people.  The Food Bank.  "The Upper Room" Soup Kitchen.  The Salvation Army.  Open Door Ministries.  Anderson House.  Talbot House.  Lacey House.  Grandmother's  House.  And that's just within a five-mile radius.  All we need to do is open our eyes and look at our own back yard and there are so many people who need to know someone cares. And speaking of the back yard - what about the person across the fence? next door? down the street?  

I remember singing this little song in Sunday School and the words are just as profound now as they ever were.  It's based on Matthew 5:24: "Let your light so shine among men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven."  Here are some of the lyrics:

Found this photo HERE

Jesus bids us shine, with a pure, clear light
Like a little candle burning in the night.
In this world of darkness, so we must shine:
You in your small corner .... and I in mine. 

Jesus bids us shine. Shine - for all around
Many kinds of darkness in this world are found: 
Sin, and want, and sorrow - so we must shine:
You in your small corner ... and I in mine.

And this is the essence of it.  We don't have to make a big splash, or turn everything into a big production.  We just need to find our niche - that place where we can make a difference - and go ahead and do it.  Whether it's seen by the pastor, the prime minister or the pope for that matter - matters not.  Even one candle can dispel the darkness.  Even if it's been dark for a VERY long time. 

Even if we've never dared let our light shine before.  It might flicker - but at least it will light the way for someone who needs it.

A"mazed"

When my youngest daughter was about 8 or 10 years old, we would eat out a lot at family restaurants which had children's menus and paper place-mats with activities for the children to do on the back. They'd give us a few crayons and the kids were occupied for the 20 minutes that it took for the food to arrive. It was great.

One of the activities on most of those place-mats was the maze.  Usually a circle, sometimes a square, it would have a mouse on the outside and a piece of cheese on the inside, or a bear looking for the honey pot, you get the idea.

This is the link for this puzzle.

Everyone I had ever seen try to navigate a maze puzzle started from the outside.  Except her.  She started from the inside where the 'prize' was - and worked her way out.  Usually she did it in far less time than we could have by doing it from the outside in.  I asked her once about why she did it from the inside out.  "It's easier that way," she said. "There aren't as many paths to choose on the inside, so I start with the easy part and work my way out to the outside. If I do that, the way looks easier for me to get back to the start."

There's a lesson in there.  Look after the inside first.

I've been thinking a lot lately about self-care.  The last couple of weeks, I've really been concentrating on looking after myself, on setting boundaries and taking responsibility for my part.  For someone who used to run from confrontation and other unpleasant things, this is never easy.  I cringe every time I do it.  It seems so daunting to just tell someone what I need if the possibility exists that I might be seen in a bad light.  I want so much for people to approve of me that I will take an unacceptable situation far too long and make false assumptions about the people involved.  This was what was happening to me the last little while.  I had myself convinced that someone was out to get me, when in fact the person was just trying to do a job and meet deadlines, that's it.  

But I had myself worked up into quite a state - four weeks ago I was walking around my workplace like a zombie, on the verge of tears the whole time. I was sleeping about three hours a night, feeling so very weary, dragging myself around, sometimes feeling so sick that I would call in - wanting to sleep but often not being able to catch a nap. The anxiety and depression were nearly overwhelming. 

That it took me as long as it did to reach out for help is something for which I take full responsibility.  I should have talked to someone sooner about how I was feeling.  Since that time, though, while following a program of self-care (looking after the inside first) I've been able to gain some perspective and a more balanced view of the situation I was in.  So this past Thursday, I made an appointment to see this person and talk. The individual listened, accepted what I said at face value, offered a few words of guidance, clarified a misconception I had, and supported me in whatever I needed to do in order to get back on my feet. 

It amazed me.  I'd been so afraid to approach this person and suddenly, within 30 minutes it was over - and the tension was nearly gone. Just like that.

And in that same time frame, other things happened over which this person would have absolutely no control... things that spoke to me and reminded me of the bigger picture, trust expressed by people I respected, fondness by someone I trust.  It almost felt to me like as soon as I took steps to look after myself and ask for what I wanted and needed, everything else seemed to fall into place - and not just at work.  Other areas started to click too - the depression began to lift about a week ago and the anxiety settled down... practicing my "breathe, unclench" exercise really helped too.  And then my confidence started to trickle back in ... culminating with the conversation Thursday.  

When I look back to the avoiding, frightened person I was as little as three and a half years ago, I am convinced that I would have been checking the job opportunities every day to get out of the situation without risking confrontation - anything but that! And it's STILL hard for me to do it - after a lifetime of running away, or being a chameleon and resenting having to change who I am to blend in - it's still a relatively new behavior for me.  That I turn instead and face my fears at all now, never ceases to surprise me - and I'm always just that surprised and amazed when I do.  (Like, who IS this person? can I get to know her?)  

My fear of people is getting less and less, gradually.  It IS taking less and less time to get to that place of looking after the inside first, working through the maze of relationships and boundaries, standing my ground, and asking for what I need.  Someday I'll learn to do it right away; someday I'll get to know that person inside and let her shine through first, instead of as a last resort.

That's when I'll really be a"mazed".

The Heart Whisperer

National Geographic Channel produces a show starring Cesar Millan, also known as "The Dog Whisperer."  He understands dogs in a way that works miracles when people have tough cases of dogs' unwanted behavior.  I love watching the show, and I've used his techniques on occasion to salvage what might have been disastrous situations.  

Cesar Millan (left) and Pat Parelli (right) sharing a photo
op, found this at
http://www.westernhorsereview.com/blogs/
my-stable-life/dog-whisperer-meets-parelli/

One show I particularly liked was when he went to work with Pat Parelli  (also known as the Horse Whisperer). A lady at a therapeutic riding school was having a problem with a couple of the school dogs, and there was also a horse that was giving some problems - so she invited both men to come and help them.  

Cesar jumped at the chance to meet Pat because in essence, they work in the same field - just with different species.  Both of them rehabilitate the animals' mental or emotional problems, and train the owners to understand and work with the strengths and mentality of the animals in order to produce a balanced, happy family unit, be it a pack or herd. 

It was amazing to watch these guys working - and working together. 
Click here for the whole episode at NatGeo (The video will open in a new tab - and is about 45 minutes, but the first 32 minutes shows them working at the riding school.  If the video stops, saying that there's a commercial break, just close the tab, come back here, re-click the link, and move the slider on the video to just after the stopping place [dot] where you left off...)   :D

Okay, I have to admit, I watched the video again.  Wow.

Just as there is a dog whisperer and a horse whisperer, there is a Heart Whisperer.  All our lives we've been conditioned by people in our pasts - whether they intended the result or not - who have caused us to be fearful, dominant, disruptive, or just angry all the time.  But the Heart Whisperer is different.  He knows how we feel, how we think, what makes us tick.  Dogs need exercise, discipline, and affection.  Horses need safety, comfort, and play.  And humans need love, acceptance, and respect.  

The Heart Whisperer knows that because He created humans.  A voluntary relationship with Him is one that gives all three: love, acceptance, and respect - first from Him to us, and in growing measure, from us to Him. It is this relationship that is core.  It is foundational. The other two relationships (that of ourselves with ourselves, and that of ourselves with others) hinge upon that primary one with Him, and have the same three components: love, acceptance, and respect. 

The relationship has to be voluntary.  We were not made to be robots.  The process is slow.  We don't learn as quickly as horses or dogs.  With us, it takes time to really "get it."  Fortunately, His patience is endless.

Because He is the source of all love, His love is unconditional.  Because He is the source of all acceptance, His acceptance is total. And because He is the source of respect, the respect He gives is ultimate.  In relationship with Him, we learn how to love, accept, and respect Him first - not by means of a gigantic guilt trip or by striving all the time to follow rules which are impossible to follow - but by allowing ourselves to believe in and open ourselves to His love, acceptance and respect for us.  It is then that we can offer ourselves those same gifts, and then eventually give them to others.  

There is so much shouting around us to try to force or manipulate us into behaving this way or that way - trying to wind us up, to turn us into nice little toy soldiers.  But His kingdom doesn't follow the methods and philosophy of the world.  No, His realm is of the heart - and He continues to whisper His message to our hearts.  If we'll listen.

Forced to Fit

I hate being "pegged."  That statement that starts, "Well, knowing you..." raises a teeny red flag with me especially if it comes from someone who doesn't know anything about me and only thinks they do because they know me in one context.  

There have been times I have done things just to upset the applecart of someone else's preconceived notion of me.  And there have been things about me that have come to light which have made others who think they know me, absolutely shocked.  Like the time a few years back that I got one of the 3 highest marks in the country for a leadership screening test.  I was "just a clerk."  The other clerks around me were (hee hee) shocked (and yes, that pleased me for some reason).  Some were angry.  Others were jealous.  Still others were happy for me and championed my cause.  It's funny - I could easily tell which ones were which. 

People are multi-faceted.  

You know what's annoying?  the whole concept of "fitting in"!!  Conforming to a set bunch of social rules just because someone - usually an extravert - has deemed that this is the behavior desired and that if you don't like it, you're "weird."  

It's like trying to hammer a square peg into a round hole, the peg is forced to fit, and is irreparably damaged.  Of course nobody thinks of it that way; "fitting in" is paramount.  (My question is always, "WHYYYY?")  If everybody was the same as everybody else, we'd be in a sorry state!  And how unutterably boring would that be??   

The apostle Paul recognized each person's individuality within the church, saying that each person had a part to play, each needed the other - just like members of a physical body need each other.  Just because my sense of humour is not like sister so-and-so's, and just because I am more hesitant to socialize, doesn't make me bad or wrong.  I am a unique and precious creation and was created this way for a reason.  If I become like someone else and sacrifice my own unique talents and gifts, then I've sabotaged my own purpose in the world.  

It's not a hard concept to grasp.  Square holes are hard to find, but they exist.  God created them too; He'll lead me to them.