If you were to say that I am a sentimental person you would be making a severe understatement. For me, the trick to being sentimental is retaining the important memories without the stuff that may trigger them (I hate clutter). The memories remain without the shit, I promise. This is easier said than done, I know.
On Saturday evening, I returned home from my first full day of Yoga Teacher Training to find a cute little package on my porch tucked under my mailbox. I figured it must have been something my husband was expecting because I couldn't remember ordering anything, stranger things have happened though, I can assure you. You can imagine my delight as I discovered the package was addressed to me! Pure glee. I stumbled inside with arms full from my day. I settled myself and then quickly remember the package which I had left just inside the door on our catch all console table. It was addressed to me but this time I also noticed who it was from, my sweet, thoughtful and very dear cousin who lives in Santa Fe. Goodie (as Granny would say), I could barely wait.
I unwrapped two beautiful turquoise dish towels with seahorses on them. My cousin had found them on a recent stay in one of my favorite places, Hawaii. She was obviously triggered by thoughts of our Granny. Trudy loved seahorses, like really LOVED them. And she was a collector so you can really only imagine the things she owned that paid homage to her beloved favorite fish. There were trinkets, China, dish towels (I'm sure), art, canvas bags, throw pillows, I could go on and on but the most memorable to me was a jeweled pin she wore on her lapel, daily. Her signature piece, well, one of them at least. Second, maybe, but only to her infamous jingling charm bracelet.
I was delighted with my new kitchen additions and wowed by the timing of the gift. Feeling extremely emotional from a long day of putting myself out there or at least contemplating it, I came home to a reminder of one of the best teachers I've ever had and quiet possibly the person I hope to emulate most. I cried.
This weekend, I was reminded at least 49 times that I am a terrible public speaker. I've never experienced anything else in life that triggers anxiety in me more than the possibility of speaking to a group. All eyes on me or even the possibility of it and I instantly feel my blood pressure skyrocket and my tongue twist. How is it even possible that the same person who can so easily and freely spill themselves in a blog post has trouble doing the same thing in person? One on one is my dream scenario, but much more than that and I'm toast, burnt toast.
For whatever reason, I knew that this would come up for me in my training (duh!... 'teacher training) but I just didn't realize how profound my hang up was.
Because she spoke to me today, through my cousins sweet gift, I'm going to try my darnedest to channel my Granny. That lady could talk to anyone about anything. She was a remarkable person, an accomplished go getter, a born leader, a mover and a shaker, a doer, an advocate and a superb public speaker. I'm not entirely sure how this skilled skipped me but I intend to make it a learned one.
Granny, please keep talking to me. I clearly have so much more to learn from you. Thank you for setting an almost unattainable bar and for always expecting our best.