Anyone who knows me in the physical realm, knows that I don't talk much, and certainly not for the sheer experience of talking. In fact, my joy comes more from listening, organizing my thoughts and sitting with them. Why? There are a few reasons this characteristic is part of my nature. I think the strongest drive is that my other-aware-ness does not wish to take up airwaves that others need. Others have a need to talk and to be heard. I don't have that need on a regular basis. I am quite happy keeping my thoughts to myself, with the trust that in a group of people, eventually someone else will say what needs to be said, and can then claim the ownership of the ideas I had swimming around in my mind.
In My Spare Time was born from the notion that I had things to say, but I didn't want to force them on anyone. One of my cherished educational mentors who is the principal of my school and appreciates my contemplative nature will sometimes note that she knows I will send my thoughts to her in written form after a meeting. It is true. In the midst of a meeting, I do not feel the need to take other people's time in order to say what I am thinking. Others with whom I have worked for years will often make a point to ask me to voice my thoughts after all cards of an issue have been shown, because they know I will otherwise avoid speak up on the spot.
I really don't mean to be mysterious! I certainly don't mean to draw this additional attention, in fact that is the last thing I want! My silence is purposeful, but I know it is not always the best avenue to take. It is a matter of comfort and lack of confidence. First of all, I cannot think on my feet. I need to ruminate and conjure up the words to express my thoughts. I also like to allow myself the time to think of various sides of an issue before responding. Perspective is not something I wish to verbalize when it is only one-dimensional. But taking the time to think of other dimensions does not produce immediate results. My mind needs time to consider varying points of view before my voice wants to chime in.
One thing that has stuck with me is a comment made by a professor in my Master's program when we first met as a class. She said, and I know the exact words because I wrote them down, "Please speak from your heart and share your thoughts. No one is judging your delivery and we expect that the words you use will be unpolished and raw." That was permission to do exactly what I so often struggle to do in real time. During that class, I tried! I would turn to those words and conjure up the courage to share my raw and unpolished thoughts. It worked there in that class, but when I try to get to the same verbal comfort level at a work meeting, for example, or even at home during discussions, the permission falls flat. Those situations seem much more important and permanent. Words said will be words remembered and regurgitated. Once spoken, they can come back to heal or to haunt. Their importance is too daunting to just be tossed around willy-nilly. And so I write.
Here I am writing my thoughts. Knowing that you are all here reading because you actually want to hear what I have to say, not because I am forcing you to listen. Knowing that I have weighed the words deliberately, balancing their message with care and concern for your hearts. Knowing that I have considered varying ideas and perspectives, relaying the message that my thoughts are not more important, more pertinent or more true than those of others. I have not come here to spew, force or pressure, but rather to shed light, suggest and share. That is my comfort. And anyone here reading my mind and sharing my thoughts with me is welcome and cherished. If only three people read these words, I will know they read them of their own volition. Thank you!
