A couple of my students from the other night were trying to see how far they could throw the snow after they stopped. How lucky am I to be able to teach skating and get paid for it? I was trying to think of some things today that I can be glad about and this was one of the things I came up with almost every time I contemplated that question.
I’m glad I’m a woman.
I’m glad I’m a teacher. I’m glad I’m a mother. I’m glad I’m a Mormon. In fact, my mormon-woman-teacher-and-motherness is the core of my personal identity, and I recognize it as the source of my greatest blessings and opportunities for growth in this life. I am not, however, a perfect mormon-woman-and-mother (gasp!). Seriously, I’ve got issues, don’t I? I'm lazy and whiny and angry and lustful and jealous and aggressive and mean and I choose going to the movies over going to the temple. I walk out of the grocery store in the rain with three kids clinging to the cart, and when I realize that I forgot to have the cashier scan the milk, I go back inside and pay for it, but mad that I have been inconvenienced. I don’t mention all this because I want to revel in my faults or air my dirty laundry. I’m saying it because it’s true, and as the old saying goes, the truth will set you free. I don’t know… sometimes there is so much comfort in being with others who not only see the good in us, but know all too well the less than desirable parts of us and love us all the more not even in spite of, but maybe because of, our faults. I think about allowing that nakedness between souls so that we might understand that we are all still on a journey and we might use what strengths we have to lift one another in our weakness.
I'm constantly struggling between worry and happiness. The thing that helps the most, I think, is knowing I’m an individual spirit who’s had specific life experiences. I’m the proud possessor of a human body, with its attendant weaknesses, and gifts, as well. In other words, what might come naturally to one woman might not come naturally to me. This seems obvious as I type it out on the page, but I remember a time when I didn’t fully understand it, and that misunderstanding led to unnecessary suffering and self-condemnation. I’m also (strangely?) grateful that I’m capable of mistakes. This is the capacity we must have, and struggle against, in order to progress. This is the capacity that enables me to stand with my kids, as we help each other understand the pain that comes from mistakes and the life-changing power of those lessons. This is the capacity that allows me the empathy necessary to lift up the hands which hang down and strengthen the feeble knees of my fellow brothers and sisters.
I am a natural woman. And today, I’m glad.
