Well doggone it. I thought I had the Stress post scheduled to post today, so I would be covered for a couple of days. But I obviously am date challenged, so now there are two posts from Sunday night. And now I have to write another one for today!
Which I guess is okay, because I’ve been thinking about people. Or more specifically, who we are. And at what point in our lives we decide that we like who we are – or maybe just that we’re stuck with who we are. My ex was (and probably still is, wherever he is) an Aries, who supposedly are known for their spontaneity. But he didn’t like that trait, so methodically set about becoming as non-spontaneous as possible. (Which made him not nearly as interesting, but that’s another story.) But I believe he did that when he was young enough to be pliable. I think that by the time you reach my advanced (ha!) age, one is not nearly as able to change major personality traits. Or maybe just not as prone to do so.
That is not to say it’s impossible. Humans can change their behavior, if they want. But I don’t know that I’m ever going to be a wise person who sees the big picture, who thinks before speaking, who is content with what is, never wanting more. I think those traits are just too deeply ingrained in the fabric of my being to alter them significantly.
I keep hoping that someday wisdom will fall on me like a piano dropped from a great distance. Or even sift softly onto me like drifting snow. But as I encounter wise people in my travels, I know I’m not that person. I might be smart, but I don’t know that I’ll ever be wise. Although that doesn’t mean I won’t stop hoping!
Those characteristics make me who I am. Maybe my friends ignore the traits they don’t like about me, and focus on the ones they do. Maybe my faults aren’t nearly as big in their eyes as they are in mine. And maybe I need to stop seeing them as faults and merely parts of the whole me.
In general, I like who I am. I’m a good friend. I laugh easily. I look for the positive in most situations. I like to have fun, and want everyone around me to have fun too. I’m generous to a fault (that’s one of those things I’d change if I could find the magic word). I can carry a conversation as long as it’s not small talk with a stranger – or about politics. Mention football, and I can go on forever. And I’ve done a lot of interesting things.
Like Popeye, I yam who I yam. If there were things about me that I hated, I’d work hard to change them. But it’s almost a relief to think that I don’t have to keep trying to tweak those things that I feel aren’t perfect. Maybe they’re fine just like they are, and I need to spend more time living and less time worrying that I’m not perfect. I’m the perfect me. And that should be enough.