Just Think of Puppycorns

Today, I found myself enjoying a luxury I am rarely afforded.  I had exactly two hours and fifteen minutes of absolutely free time.  I have a weird clause in my employment contract that only allows me to take either a half or full day off.  Even though the dental appointment I had this morning ended at 9:15 a.m., I was on paid sick leave until 11:30 a.m.  After contemplating a range of options, I decided to camp out in a coffee shop near the school where I work.  

When I entered the shop, there was a business networking meeting in progress.  I purchased my tea and then quietly slunk over to a table near the window to camp out.  Even though the meeting was just a few feet away from me, I managed to get into a zone and was happily working away and soaking up a bunch of Vitamin D from the sun that was streaming through the window next to my table.  The meeting ended and the attendees began to slowly filter out the door.  

There were some people there that I recognized, but I always assume that I am neither memorable nor important enough to be recognizable to most other people.  I was, therefore, fairly surprised when a woman approached my table and said, "You're Sara, right."  

"Well, yes.  I am," I stammered.  

"I thought that was you.  I work at (insert local nonprofit) and we met before to discuss (insert nonprofity service).  I know you probably don't remember me, but I wanted to say something to you." 

I must have looked a bit apprehensive (and I was) because she quickly said, "No.  Don't worry.  I just wanted you to know that I saw your post on facebook about your birthday and I wanted to tell you that I think it's so awesome what you're doing.  You are being so positive and I love that you are trying to start a...what did you call it...a revolution of kindness."  

I responded with an incredulous, relieved, and probably underwhelming, "Thanks" and she left to continue her day.  

The Not So Secret Life of a Poser

I wish I could say that this was the beginning of what turned out to be a really good day.  I really wish I could say that.  However, that is not how it all turned out.  After I finished my tea, I went on to have a very good day at work, followed by a meeting that went well, followed by a commute home that went exactly according to plan.  I had enough time to prep my littlest lady for girl scouts, coach my middle lady for her evening at home, and get things ready for my eldest lady's sports banquet.  I drove back to town feeling pretty good.

We were just a tidge late to the banquet, but we walked in with a former co-worker of mine.  As soon as I entered the room, however, I felt my mood begin to sour.  The room was filled with lots of bustling people who all looked like they felt as though they belonged.  And they did. I did not belong.  I mean, I did, but I really felt like I didn't.   I found a spot for my contribution for the pot luck and my co-worker and I scanned the room looking for a place to set up camp.  I spotted a table where all of my closest friends were seated, but there was not space for us there.  We made a beeline for a table that had two seats and made some conversation before the banquet got underway.

The thing about sports banquets is that most people who attend these things actually care about sports.  They talk about PR's and records and form and technique and other sportsy things.  I don't speak sportsy language and I don't even know how to pretend to speak that language.  I'm not judging.  We all have our things and I think sports are great for a lot of people. I just don't care about competition and winning and losing.  However, when placed in these sorts of situations, I become keenly aware that I should care about winning and losing and all of those other sportsy things I listed above.  However, lacking the vocabulary, I just find myself sitting there feeling lonely amidst a sea of people.  

This is where it gets kind of ugly, folks.  Remember when that woman approached me and praised me for being so positive and kind.  Yeah...I'm a big fat poser, because this evening I was not positive or kind in my heart.  As the feeling of loneliness spread its cold tendrils throughout my body, I began to think the ugliest thoughts ever.  I was angry with myself for not knowing how to speak this language.  I was angry with my friends for not saving me a spot at their table.  I was angry at all of the attendees who seemed to know exactly what to say and when to say it.  I was angry that I had to attend alone and I was angry that the kids all sat together so I didn't even have my kid to distract me. I was angry about fifty billion other things and I won't continue to list them because I know you get the picture.   I was just ugly and angry.  

By the end of the banquet, any motivation I had to engage in small talk had completely dissipated.  I stood apart from everyone and waited impatiently for my daughter to say her good-byes to her friends.  As we walked out to the car, she asked me what was wrong.  I tried to brush it off, but fortunately or unfortunately, I am completely incapable of hiding my feelings.  They just burst out of my body at all times.  When I'm happy, that is a huge strength...I'm a blast to be around when I'm giddy with joy.  But when I'm ugly like I was tonight, it's pretty, well, ugly.  The car ride home was pretty much the worst ever.  My sour mood made it impossible for me to appropriately respond to her age appropriate difficulties with perspective taking and emotion regulation.  We argued.  We both wound up crying.  To quote my friend Alexander, today wound up being a "terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."  

Puppycorns to the Rescue

During the war that was waged in my car, a quiet little peacemaker was sitting in the backseat.  I had picked up my littlest lady from girl scouts and so she had the misfortune to be in the car as her sister and I argued.  After we got home and I took a little time out in my car, I mounted the stairs and, filled with regret, went to tuck her in.

"I'm sorry you had to listen to all of that," I said with tears in my eyes.

"That's okay, Mommy," she said and wrapped her little arms around my neck for a gentle hug.  "You know what you need to do next time you're fighting?  Just think about donuts and puppycorns.  That's what I do." 

I smiled and laughed at what seemed like a silly response, but as I lay in my bed contemplating this evening, I realized that I was just given a bit bit of wisdom in the form of a puppycorn.  In her third grade way, my daughter was telling me that, really, it's all about perspective and mindset.  During that banquet I had convinced myself that I didn't have any friends, that no one really wanted to sit with me, that I had nothing interesting to say, and that I did not belong in that room.  

Had I adopted the mindset of a puppycorn, I would have approached the table my friends were seated at and ask if we could make room for my co-worker and I.  A puppycorn would have faked the sports conversations as much as possible or enjoyed the chance to sit in silence even in a large group.  A puppycorn would have remembered her own strengths and the cool qualities that make her interesting.  A puppycorn would not have separated herself from the people around her.  A puppycorn would have had the confidence to be her unsportsy self in a room full of sportsy people and still feel like she belonged.  A puppycorn would not have been ugly.  

As I type these words and process the ugly events that unfolded this evening, I also think about a bit of wisdom my eldest daughter accidentally gifted me with this evening.  In between bouts of arguing, we were discussing the ins and outs of friendship and she asked if it was okay to sometimes be annoyed by people you care about.  I told her that I thought it was pretty normal to be annoyed by everyone some of the time, even people we like a whole lot.  One of the annoying qualities we discussed was when a friend or family member requires a lot of emotional energy and needs to be "taken care of." 

As we were talking, I had this moment where I realized that I have become...or maybe always have been...someone who wants to be taken care of.  I want people to save me seats and go out of their way to include me in conversation.  In the past, I have rationalized this with the thoughts that I would do that for others.  And it's true, I think.  I would have saved seats and I would have tried to make sure my friends had conversation. However, if I'm really honest with myself, the seat saving and conversation would have been really for my benefit, not theirs.  They clearly don't need me to save seats or ensure good conversation...they all did just fine on their own this evening.  I was the one looking for a life preserver, only really, I should have just put on my own life jacket in the first place. It's not anyone's job to make me feel comfortable; I need to be responsible for my own self.

I know this is not my last battle with insecurity.  I feel like I have more clarity about who I am and the various strengths and weaknesses that compose my personhood.  Even with all of this insight, all too often I find myself battling the negative self talk that I've cultivated in my brain. Perfection is unattainable and I know that I will fall prey to my own darkness at some point...probably soon. I do hope, however, that with time and practice, I can begin to flip those scripts and make my way toward becoming a real, live puppycorn.  

Hopefully yours, 

Sara Renee

P.S.  If you want to know more about the revolution of kindness that I have planned for my birthday, check out this facebook event.

P.S.S This is a picture of the t-shirt my daughter wears that features the puppycorn.  Maybe I should find one in an adult size to remind myself that puppycorns can be real.