TwitterMar 28 2010
Joy, happiness, laughter, a birthday, a heart attack, my personality type: I’m an otter BTW, Snow White and her Dwarfs again? and how all this adds up to my focus . . .
Yesterday was Grace’s birthday party, today is her actual birthday. The big 1-2.
Becoming 12 is such a big deal in a girls life. Only one one year till 13–the teens–and another that distances them from being considered “a little kid”. Most girls are anxious to get past “the little 
kid” stage by 12. They’re in middle school now. Transition is happening in their body, and they want to move solidly into the “teen” stage. To wear a small heel and longer dangle earrings, carry purses, wear the latest fashion, use lip gloss…
To witness Grace move through this stage has been wonderful. She maturing into quite a young, confident lady who carries herself very well. It causes a warm smile to drift into my lips and my eyes to soften as I observe her.
While all of the maturity is going on she and her friends are also in the giddy stage. A time in a girls life when unbridled happiness is being gushed all over the place. Grace is the last of my girls that I will have to go through the wonder of this period and I have to say it’s hard to believe that this is almost past. This is a time that comes and goes quickly and a parent must never hesitate to catch it or risk missing it altogether. But if they do catch it there’s a lot of wonderful, enriching fun to be had.
This giddy stage is something, that at times, I yearn to embrace in my adult life. Life of an adult can be so stiff. So serious. So full of do’s and don’ts that if we aren’t careful can choke us like smoke that fills the air and leave us gasping and snuffed out from most of the joy, happiness, and wonder of living.
I happen to be an individual that knows the exact moment when my joy was chocked out. I had a friend point it out. She said, “Theresa I need to tell you. To warn you that since the baby has been born I see that the wonderful joy you have always had has left you. I tell you so that you might get it back.”
I was 27. I stood in her driveway holding my new born son in my arms. The first of my two children, both sons, to be born with Spina Bifida. And I resented her comment. I couldn’t see the truth of the statement at all. I was the same as ever. But I should have had ears to hear. It would have saved me 18 years of going flat line, icing over, mostly surviving life…
Then there’s my ex-brother in law, who I grew to love almost as much as my own brother after 23 years of being in their family, had a heart attack on Friday. He’s going to be 60 in June. That’s young in my mind. And yet his heart was threatening to give out. Thanks to the hospitals intervention thankfully he’ll continue here with us. He’ll have a stint put in and things should be fine. Being 45 the shock of hearing that someone of his age has had a heart attack doesn’t effect me as it once did. But, even still, this did cause me to stop, think, and reflect. Reflect on me. Reflect on him. How he’s lived out his life. Of his family I knew him to laugh more than the rest. When I think of him typically my mind’s eye sees him with a laugh jiggling his body. But then he lived a strained life and largely unlived life, in many ways that I’m not at liberty to share, that I do think took it’s toll.
So hearing that he had a heart attack at his young age coupled with watching my daughter and her friends bubble with a love and exuberance for life yesterday, took me deeply into reflection…
I believe life is meant to be a joy. Meant to be full of laughter and may I say a good bit of silliness. This thought began a couple years before my divorce when I found myself going around saying, “There’s got to be more to life than this.” Life with my ex had grown far too serious and by then I had solidly lost my joy. I had gone from an optimistic, springy, fun seeking person, who my ex had annoyingly remarked, “Your the otter type personality. You think life is about play and fun.” He had heard something about personality types being associated to animals and I was, apparently, solidly an otter. Let’s see what was he?? Can’t remember but it certainly wasn’t an otter. Even with my lack of otteryness he still saw me as one.
Since my divorce I’ve been coming out of my negativity. Attempting to move back into being an otter… just one with sensible grounding when need be. But I will say that the progress has been too slow and since yesterday I’ve been thinking…
I need to take my life and all I have to do, with all that’s swirling around me, and keep the smile. Keep the joy. Keep the laughter and mirth amongst it all. Lean solidly into happiness. Embrace the otter while I work. Like Snow White’s Drawfs–whistle while I work.
This is my focus. This is my desire. This is my goal. Just thought I’d share.
How about you?? Where is your joyness? Your happiness? Your silliness with life? What’s your personality type. Do share…
Night, love ya,
Theresa
-btw I Googled the whole animal personality thing and it seems my ex is a beaver. Want to know yours? Here’s a fun link: Personality Types with a table that you can expand if you like on the link underneath. I have to say that the entire otter column is so me. And I couldn’t help but giggle when I saw that that Snoopy from the Peanuts gang is another animal I’m in line with. Why the giggle? Well, since I was two or three I have love the Peanuts Gang and my favorite has always been him. My first cat when I was two or three was named Snoopy and it was a girl. I’m also in line with Tigger, from Winnie the Pooh. To say the least he has always been my absolute favorite too! Not only that but the Swing Dance is there as well. And of all the dances in the world I regret not learning it would be that dance, and sadly I do believe that it’s too late now!
I think this table is helping it to all come clear as to why, as I shared a couple weeks back, I’m not what you might call a “book keeping” type which also made getting my taxes assembled such a struggle. LOL!
It’s not too late to learn to dance, especially East Coast Swing. That’s a snap. I learned it at 40 and I had never (uh-uh, no way) danced anything like choreography with steps ‘n rules and all.
Also, most of the best swing dancers are old people who are active. It was the dance of their youth, so they’ve done it all their lives.
Once your foot’s not sore, you can look up those cheap (sometimes free) lessons available at community centers, churches etc. or wherever they do adult ed. in your area.
Finding the time, though, that’s a challenge. You could easily learn it in about six weeks of one-hour group lessons.
Ah time. Now there is none of that right now. But one day I will look into it. Thanks for letting me know.
Theresa Jane