What are some things you find yourself having to relearn? I mean, life lessons you know – but forget – that keep coming back to refresh your memory?
Lessons like:
- The only one I can control is myself;
- Let it go (tho’ I kind of wish Disney hadn’t create a brainworm out of it);
- In everything, I have a choice as to how I’ll respond;
- I really wouldn’t want everyone to be like me …
I wrote a few weeks ago about my experience wearing a hijab on World Hijab Day – tho’ I called it International Hijab Day. I keep wanting to write “an hijab,” but I only ever find “a hijab” so I try to conform. Anyway, while I’ll never know how many people silently approved or disapproved, I do know that one person complained. Having received thanks and appreciation, I can live with this.
Still I think about it. I also wonder about the ones didn’t voice their confusion or displeasure. I’m well aware that when some people are offended they don’t want to play anymore; they take their marbles and go home. Adults can do this too, though they may be more P.A. about it. And in my line of work, I need to at least consider when this might happen and who might’ve left.
Anyway, to an epiphany. At the church’s Wednesday evening community dinner, I walked with my plate of food to a table where two people were sitting. “Is there room for one more?” I asked. The response was similar to the one Alice received when she tried to join the Hare, Hatter, and Dormouse at their tea party (though to be fair, the response I received was more polite).
Nothing against the people who were saving seats for family and friends, but it got me thinking. (A pastor doesn’t hear this kind of comment often.) I went to another table, had plenty of conversation, and enjoyed my dinner. But the gears in my mind continued.
I’m aware that I’m “different” in a number of ways. Not just my hijab-wearing, blogging, or outspokenness. Not just my green, progressive theology. There’s also the blue enamelware dishes I’ve taken to using at church. I’ve taken issue with one-time-use plastics for decades but I only started using these a few months ago, when I told myself to either get over it or walk the walk.
Maybe it’s that my antennae are more attuned for conflict just now, but I found myself thinking, someone could object to this as well. It sounds really silly to me. But during those moments when I remember the fourth point above, I concede that most people are not like me (which is good) and that they might sincerely believe something that I think is silly.
In that moment I remembered that when people want to have a problem, when they’re predisposed toward conflict, or when they’ve already made up their minds not about an issue or about me, there is nothing on God’s green earth that I can do about it (which actually references the first point above, and gives me another opportunity to practice the second and third. All in all, an excellent learning opportunity.)
In closing, I’ll share something I learned at a workshop when I was a teacher:
Still I think about it. I also wonder about the ones didn’t voice their confusion or displeasure. I’m well aware that when some people are offended they don’t want to play anymore; they take their marbles and go home. Adults can do this too, though they may be more P.A. about it. And in my line of work, I need to at least consider when this might happen and who might’ve left.
Nothing against the people who were saving seats for family and friends, but it got me thinking. (A pastor doesn’t hear this kind of comment often.) I went to another table, had plenty of conversation, and enjoyed my dinner. But the gears in my mind continued.
I’m aware that I’m “different” in a number of ways. Not just my hijab-wearing, blogging, or outspokenness. Not just my green, progressive theology. There’s also the blue enamelware dishes I’ve taken to using at church. I’ve taken issue with one-time-use plastics for decades but I only started using these a few months ago, when I told myself to either get over it or walk the walk.
Maybe it’s that my antennae are more attuned for conflict just now, but I found myself thinking, someone could object to this as well. It sounds really silly to me. But during those moments when I remember the fourth point above, I concede that most people are not like me (which is good) and that they might sincerely believe something that I think is silly.
In that moment I remembered that when people want to have a problem, when they’re predisposed toward conflict, or when they’ve already made up their minds not about an issue or about me, there is nothing on God’s green earth that I can do about it (which actually references the first point above, and gives me another opportunity to practice the second and third. All in all, an excellent learning opportunity.)
In closing, I’ll share something I learned at a workshop when I was a teacher:
“Mistakes are great learning opportunities.”
No comments:
Post a Comment