Isn’t It Ironic, Don’t You Think?

I was an idealistic college student when Alanis Morissette’s song Ironic was a Billboard hit. It was a cool tune with melodramatic lyrics from a bitchin’ singer-songwriter.  I thought she was a total badass.  Still do actually. Now, 20 years later (good Lord, how did two decades pass?)… life is, well, a little bit ironic.

Just for the educational value of sharing, Merriam-Webster defines ironic as “strange or funny because something (such as a situation) is different from what you expected.”

Different from what I expected.  Hmmm. Let’s break that down, shall we?

I’m blessed (and I mean that truly; no sarcasm) to be immersed in a professional environment that is learner centered… to be surrounded daily by educators who value and emulate self-authorship.  Admittedly, I often feel like a fish out of water in this environment, and at times it has been incredibly challenging, personally and emotionally. But I am right where I need to be, with the people I need to be surrounded by, doing work that I value… and, perhaps even more importantly, working on myself at the same time.

The beauty of being in this place is that the relationships don’t end at “quitting time.”  I have colleagues I call upon as true and trusted friends.  Work families become weekend playdates. Community is intentional and transcends title, department, and hierarchy.  It’s special and that isn’t lost on me.

So when I gathered recently with a group of amazing women– all of whom I met through my work life– to have authentic conversation, the dialogue led to a place that elicited a pretty strong emotional response from me… somewhat unexpectedly.  We were discussing the question, “Am I living the life I was intended to live?”

What I discovered… and what I find ironic about the irony of my life (did you follow that?)… is I’ve been living a life that OTHERS intend for me to live.  Yet, I’ve only come to know this about myself during the three years that I’ve been in my current professional role… in this inspired environment… and with these amazing educators.

In an earlier blog, I talked about how I’ve always had a plan.  And, how I pretty much tried to follow that plan to create what I thought life was supposed to be.  The plan went something like this… You go to school, you get good grades, you land a great job, you get married, you have 2 kids (1 boy, 1 girl of course), you have a dog that doesn’t shed, a picket fence around your perfectly manicured little lawn, and (hell, for good measure to show exactly how ludicrous this thinking is) let’s add a hot, home-cooked meal on the dining room table with the good china by 6 p.m. every night.

WHATEVER. I’m being a bit exaggerative, but F*#@ THAT!

This, however, wasn’t the surprising part about my realization from the discussion though. I’ve always known that I had a prescribed plan… and that plans too stringent can sometimes prevent you from new opportunities.  What surprised me is that so much of what I’ve done… the choices I’ve made, the things I’ve done… were done from a place of expectation and obligation.  They were done from a place of shame if I didn’t meet a standard, measure up, or “represent” well.  Reputation and name are everything, after all.  And, perhaps hardest to swallow, they were done from a place of yearning for and craving acceptance… and love.

I recall in high school hearing, “remember who you are, where you come from, and what you stand for.”  But that was high school.  Nobody was talking about self-authorship there.  No one stopped long enough to engage in further reflection on… “Who AM I, really?”… or, “Where do I come from and what does that mean to me or say about me to others?”… or, “What DO I stand for and believe in? And WHY?”  Those would have been incredible, and enlightening, questions to consider no doubt.

I feel compelled to say that I have lived a very charmed life.  It’s only recently that I’ve begun to understand my privilege on a variety of levels.  And, admittedly, I continue to struggle accepting it… but it’s there and it’s part of me, so I’m working hard to own it.  And, to use it for good.

I’ll catch hell for quoting him, but I’m going to do it anyway.  My dear colleague Frank Shushok is the author of one of my favorite quotes…

If you are still breathing, you are still becoming!

Thank God!  I still fog up the mirror when I breathe on it, so there is hope for me yet! Because I have so much more I want to become.  To become.  Not to have or to obtain.  Not to do.  Just to be.

I want to create a long list of “I am”– and not in relation to other, but what I am in relation to self.  Where does MY joy exist?  What are MY divine gifts and talents? How do I manifest them for myself and how do I share them authentically with others? How do I understand and, perhaps more importantly ACCEPT, the unique and complicated creature I am… JUST AS I AM.  And, how to I find and surround myself with others who love me just the same.. as I am.

The idea of legacy is one that has strongly resonated with me for some time now.  But tonight, I think I’ll begin moving away from what I hope to leave behind and start moving toward what I’m living in.

This is me, ya’ll.  I’m flawsome and glitterific just the way I am… I think I’m going to own it.