Easter is always a major time of reflection for me.
…Okay. By “always,” what I really mean is “Well, uh, it’s been a thing for the last couple of years?” Being a young adult is sometimes like that, though. I’m quick to declare things part of my identity.
Easter weekend has played a major role in that identity, so it stays sacred.
I like the idea of rebirth. I like spring. The whole vibe that comes with things getting warmer/more colourful/livelier makes for a very positive, spiritual occasion. I do a lot of “resolution”-type thinking around Easter. What burdens do I need to emerge from, butterfly-style? Who do I want to become?
“Stop worrying about finding the right person. Start working on becoming the right person.”
I read that the other day, and it stuck. I agreed with the idea, but it made me wonder: what does the “right person” look like?
What kind of woman do I want to be?
I want to be the kind of woman who writes thank you cards. Who lets managers know when she gets good service. Who writes appreciative reviews for small businesses. Who lets artists know when they have touched her life, and lets politicians know when they have done the “right thing.” I want to be the kind of woman who wholeheartedly recognizes little miracles—and who approaches those miracles, if they have a face and a name.Who lives through gratitude, and means it. Who has a whiteboard on the wall, with a constantly revolving list of people to notify; ‘Hey, you. You’re alllllright.’
I want to be the kind of woman whose gratitude is a constantly distributed gift, an open bar; not an investment with an expected return. Accessible. Unconditional. Loving. I want to be the kind of woman who is thankful day by day, step by step. Whose thank yous aren’t loaded attempts to control the future, nor quiet warnings of her standards. She will never say ‘This is good. If I am grateful for this step, can the next step be just as good, please?’. No; I want to be the kind of woman who is grateful because it is just who she is. And when she says thank you, she simply means to say, That step was good. You helped make it good. Grazie, gracias, merci.
I want to be the kind of woman with an open-door policy. Who knows her neighbours by name, aim, and favourite food…if they let her. I want to be that obnoxiously sweet lady-two-doors-down, the one who makes lots of casseroles. Funeral? Casserole. Moving day? Casserole. I could be that woman, I think. That would be a good woman to be.
(Unless the neighbours aren’t into casseroles. I am also open to making cookies.
…Dream big, right?)
I want to be the kind of woman with lots and lots of stories. I never, ever want to be boring. I don’t suppose anyone does want to be boring, but…if I’m aiming to be casserole-lady, I would prefer to be fun-casserole-lady. I want to be the kind of woman who was there for that thing. Who has the scars, tattoos, pictures, friendships, and memories to prove it. I want to be the kind of woman with guitar-bred finger calluses, with laugh lines and dimples, with sun-kissed shoulders and tired, blistered feet.
I want to be the kind of woman who has mastered the art of witty retorts. Who laughs a lot, and who swears every now and then–because honestly, cursing sometimes makes the punchline better. Sometimes. Not always. And not in mixed company, I guess. Hopefully, though, I can be the kind of woman who mostly keeps company which can handle crazy stories and cursing.
I want to be the kind of woman who exercises. I’m TOTALLY NOT that woman right now, but I would like to be. Or at least, I want to be the kind of woman who goes for walks, and can throw a ball around with her friends/family. I won’t aspire to be good at sports, or to be anything other than clumsy and awkward when I play outside…but I do want to be the kind of woman who plays outside.
(Besides, I hear it’s “good for you.”)
I want to be the kind of woman who dresses up for Halloween. And who puts up Christmas lights. Who plays pranks on April Fool’s Day–and sometimes on other days, too (’cause she’s funny, remember?). I want to be the kind of woman who has mastered the art of appetizers, conversation and corny holidays. Who knows how to make a good martini. Who has a solid supply of not-so-secret recipes and crowd-pleasing playlists.
(I know, I know, all of this costs money. And I know that money may not always be there. Hopefully, I can be the kind of woman that is okay with that, too.)
I would like very much to say “I want to be a woman of faith,” but I don’t know if that’s fair. I don’t know that someone should aspire to believe anything, least of all anything supernatural. I would like very much to be a woman of faith–because I currently am, and it serves me well. But again, not a fair goal. I would much rather be a woman who constantly uses the brain God gave her–even if that means that her idea of “God” has to change as she learns things.
What I do want to be is a woman of grace–you know, that thing that happens when personal values meet interpersonal compassion. I want to be the kind of woman who can hold herself to a code of loyalty, honesty, and kindness, but who uses those things to Love better–not to be condescending or proud.
Right now, I describe that as being “Christian”. I can’t imagine grace is confined to “WWJD”, though.
So, grace. Lots of grace. I want to be the kind of woman who is radically patient with people and with herself. Who has the courage to love the world, even when it seems particularly cruel. I want to be the kind of woman who can (gracefully, gracefully) step in and help someone who is hurting, and understands that “help” and “hurting” have many different faces.
I want to be the kind of woman who is continually educated and insatiably curious. Who speaks a couple languages, who knows her geography, and who travels lots and lots. I want to be the kind of woman who knows enough to be aware of the fact that she knows nothing. Who has about 10 questions for every answer. No, I don’t want to be the kind of woman who puts her job and education before family–family should always, always come first. But I do want to be the kind of woman who brings the family (and the edgy jokes, and the free spirit) along for the ride–and makes sure the ride involves lots and lots of learning. I want to be the kind of woman who lights up when she talks and hears about the world, and whose curiosity is infectious.
Yes; That’s the kind of woman I want to be.
What about you?
(Happy Easter/Joyeuses Pâques, everyone!)
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