I am in the middle of reading Rob Bell’s latest book and in it he quotes writer Anne Lamott. She says that the most powerful sermon in the world is two words:
The truth of that statement smacked me upside the head.
(Not literally. Obviously.)
Each and every human being is a completely different creature. My thoughts, my desires, my preferences, my habits, my everything is unique to ME. Out of every single person who resides on the planet Earth, there is not one who is my carbon copy. I am an individual, distinctive, extraordinary, solitary being, like none other.
That whole concept is pretty awesome.
It can also be a little lonely.
For if I am so special (as are you) that nobody can compare…then it can be pretty isolating.
This is where “Me too!” comes in. All of a sudden you are no longer alone.
You know the feeling. You meet a new friend at the park who tells you that her boys did not potty train until they were three. “Me Too!” you exclaim, happy to have someone who has experienced what you have, staring down the butt-crack of your kids for three years straight.
You meet another Mom who tells you the truth that she had to let her older baby “Cry It Out” in order to get a good night’s sleep for everyone. “Me too!”, you exclaim. Then you commiserate on the horrid days of sleeplessness, and confess that while your kids still have the occasional night where they pull a “WTH?”, most nights serve as a true rest that helps you to face the day ahead.
It dawned on me that “Me Too” is what brought me to start this site three years ago and what keeps me writing here. The Me Too phenomenon is central to blogging, it seems.
I read posts by my friends that mention skipping Third Grade (and the awkwardness that ensues) and I pipe up, “Me Too!”
I read about The Fruit Commandments and shout a huge “Me Too!” (And also, “HOLLA!”) (I also confess to my hatred of Lemon Meringue pie.)
I reflected on what I have been writing here, and it has been more of the other side of the Me Too community. I have much of the good, the bad, and the ugly in my life but do not share a lot of it due to many, many reasons. What I have shared seems a bit selfish, as I have been on the receiving end of the Me Too. The receiver of the “Oh, I hear you and I want to help” version of the Me Too.
The most recent example being the post about my fight with The Winter Blues. I threw it out there, hoping for people to exclaim, “Me Too!” and to share their ideas for embracing winter. It wasn’t about you, it was about me (Though I guess it is my site…)
Here is where I want to give the fun side of “Me too!” to my (wee) community. I want to share some random tidbits about myself in the hopes that you will see glimmers of yourself and feel a connection.
I feel as though I am a bit of a fraud when people call me a “Photographer”. I am a Chartered Accountant who likes to take photos. While I have come a long way in my photography skills in the past two years, I have so much further to go. SO MUCH FURTHER.
I lose my temper with the kids. It is not entirely my fault. HOW HARD IS IT TO PUT ON YOUR SHOES IN UNDER TEN MINUTES?
Bad drivers, um, drive me batty. See that yellow line? STICK TO THE RIGHT OF IT. Also. The four-way-stop works well if we all take our turns. You jetting out immediately after the dude in front of you? NOT COOL.
Warm towels out of the dryer are like a taste of Heaven to me.
I cannot stand drinking room-temperature water. Ice is a necessity.
Then I get cold, and need to drink something warm. Usually tea or coffee.
Which dehydrates me and makes me thirsty. So I reach for some ice water…
And you wonder how I spend my days.
Some days I feel young! And saucy!
Other days I see my crow’s feet, my saggy boobs skin, my lack of any ability to age as gracefully as others seem to do. I want to be THAT WOMAN who is transcendent in her beauty, regardless of age. I don’t really see it happening. I hope to get there though. It will probably be when I am ninety or so.
I do not think that Will Farrell is very funny.
Steve Carell, however? BRING IT ON.
I wonder if I will ever be truly happy in this body of mine. I make it hunger, I exercise it until it cries out, and I still critique myself more than anyone else ever would. I really hope we can come to peace with each other before I am ninety.
Ninety seems to be a common theme. I hope that if I do make it to ninety, I am not an invalid.
I place a lot of demands on this weakly, earthly body of mine.
Yo Gabba Gabba, while a great distraction for the kids, IS COMPLETELY INSANE. The writers/actors must have access to some seriously sweet drugs.
I have never done (illegal) drugs. Yes, I am serious.
I sometimes slip and swear. It is usually the “s” word, but once a year or so I drop the “F” bomb to the delight/disdain of my husband.
I think Jesus laughs when I swear.
I love to cook and bake. Baking is easy for me, and I have a husband (and children) who eat every last bite. One goody I have never made is a homemade pie. I should get on that.
I tend to write more than I intend to and then live in fear of the Publish button. I need to work on that.
Speaking of Publish, I need to do that before I write a novel.
I find it utterly amazing how one simple quote can inspire me so much. When you hear a piece of Truth it resonates in your soul and makes you want to share it with those you love.
Which includes each and every one of you. If none of my confessions sparked a “Me too!”, please share one of your own. Odds ate I (or someone else) will feel their heart leap upon reading your words.
We are a community, after all.