What blend of events, circumstances, joys, and sorrows has made you the person that stares back at you in the mirror today? That is the question on my mind. What would the collection look like if it were represented by tangible items?

Yesterday I decided to tackle the basement clutter. Since our nest is empty, I now have the space to keep more meaningful things upstairs. I realized two things – 1) I assign meaning to far too many things and 2) Books are my favorite.   Over the years I have culled my collection several times.  Because I have done so, yesterday was hard. I considered each item critically, considering in-specific why I should hang onto whatever it may be. After all of the painful putting aside, I went immediately to the local thrift-o-rama and divested myself of the items that did not make the cut before I could change my mind.

By end of the day, I was able to make a plan to bring what remained upstairs to my office. The picture I have associated with this post is from my office. As I sat there completely exhausted from the mental and physical effort of moving around my possessions, I realized interspersed on sixteen 11”x11” squares was so many of the things that represent how I became who I see in the mirror. By the time my plan is completely implemented, my office will be, in essence, a museum of my life carefully curated and on display.

Perhaps you are better than me at not necessarily needing a memento for literally everything. The idea that held my attention while culling was the notion that I am who I am… the whole collection. The mementos don’t make me. We are all internal collections, aren’t we?  I have spent far more energy creating the tangible collection than I have using what I have curated internally to impact the lives of others.

What if, in 2022, we resolved to be the collection instead of just seeing the collection?

What do I mean by being the collection? So glad you asked.  

For so many years, I have struggled with my paradoxical self. I am an introvert, but I love being with people. I am quiet but can talk the hind leg off a goat. Laughing is my favorite but I walk around with a harsh look on my face. I feel set up for disconnection and am desperate to connect. I let the paradox win too often. I am my own worst enemy.

The truth for us all is we were intentionally created (see Psalm 139: 13-16). Our blends of events, circumstances, joys, and sorrows are all different. The beauty of that is we each bring something different to the table. Our challenge is whether or not we choose to approach the table. Showing up is a choice.

When we choose to be the collection, we choose to wrangle our good, bad, and ugly into the lives of others. Wildly enough, it works out. When we bravely roller skate into the gala wearing country attire, so to speak, we will find others wearing wheels. We also demonstrate that flannel is more functional than velvet. Are you picking up what I am putting down?

Your blend is exactly the thing someone somewhere needs. Chances are, somewhere is your workplace, the line at Starbucks, or your pew at church, and roller skates are unnecessary. A smile works just fine. My finest friendships all began with an awkward hello.

We all have much more to offer than we realize. When we stop long enough to realize that our value lies in us and not in our stuff, we can start making a difference. We can do so just as we are… weirdness and all.