Perspective on Who I Am and Who I Want to Be

This entry is part 5 of 5 in the series Grief and Regret

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Isn’t it funny how time changes our perspective? Things we think so permanent that we define ourselves by them. Then, inevitably something comes along to shake up our world. Suddenly, we realize that we haven’t even touched the surface of our true selves. Interesting, but a little scary too.

This past weekend, I gained a little of that much needed perspective. My husband, son, grandson, and I went to an annual gathering that has been going on for over two and a half decades. Literally, people who first attended as children are now bringing their children and grandchildren.

For the family, friends, and neighbours that attend, this gathering is an oasis. People show up, camp out, enjoys the games, eat, sing, and visit. Everyone is treated like a close friend. Kids play together and the collective adults keep an eye out for them. There’s no chaos and everyone lets the world melt away to just relax for a while.

The first time we went to this gathering, the experience was nothing short of magical. I was deeply touched. I saw this oasis and knew with all my heart and soul that is what I wanted for my future. I could easily imagine myself surrounded by children, grandchildren, and friends. All of us laughing, sharing, and feeling like we deeply belonged. Who wouldn’t want that?

To me, this annual event reminds me of when I was a kid. For a time, we used to go camping with all my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Perhaps these bygone events weren’t nearly as relaxing, as our troubles, dramas, and traumas seemed to come with us.

I also remember wedding receptions where someone would pull out a guitar. Others would join in or sing. Music filled the air. People danced and chatted. Everyone (even those who were normally quite grumpy) seemed more positive.

Going to the gathering reminded me of the things we’ve given up for the sake of getting ahead and gaining more stuff. We’re all so very disconnected and busy. Filled with remembrance, I knew I wanted to bring that connection, indeed that balance back to my family and friends. In my fantasies, I saw myself as BBQ queen, hostess extraordinaire, and cookie making grandma all wrapped up in one.

Sounds great and yes it was a great idea. Unfortunately, it’s not me. At least, not in the way I had it all mapped in my brain. Yes, I love baking and nearly always have fresh-baked cookies on hand for those who drop by. I also make great homemade bread and buns.

Beyond that, I’m only an adequate cook. No one is flocking by for a home cooked meal. Moreover, although I’m not a wallflower, I’m not that outgoing miracle hostess. Except when I write, I’d rather get to know other people rather than talk about myself.

I guess what I didn’t recognize at the time was that we each need to take that feeling, that ideal, and find a way to integrate it in a way that works for them. No, I’m probably not going to host an annual event that serves to root and connect generations of people. However, I am pretty good at researching, experimenting, and writing about techniques like Reiki, meditation, guided imagery, and other transpersonal methodologies to help people find their own version of balance. That and if you happen to drop by, I’ve probably got a fresh batch of cookies made or some homemade buns in the oven.

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About The Author

Tami Brady

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