I have already learned a few things this Lenten season, and the first day's not even over. They're not particularly insightful or theological, just... things.
- Don't be afraid to be "that one person," because chances are that even if you're not joined by a fellow "that person," you've probably given someone else out there inspiration or food for thought. Case in point: Mass was over, which meant that everyone could collectively start talking/shouting over one another and shoving through the pews to the exit of the church. Amid the chaos I debated whether or not I should drop a kneeler and do my after-Mass prayers there, or just say them on my way through the crowds trying to get back to work. I noticed one gentleman a few pews away who quietly put a kneeler down and was doing his own prayers. Noting that, I followed his lead. I feel guilty now for even debating that question - what was the worse that could have happened? Someone gets annoyed that I'm blocking their escape from the pew? No one did, for the record.
- Don't take yourself so seriously. So I was in line for my cross-shaped thumbprint of burned palm branches from Easter 2013 (i.e., ashes), and when it was my turn, I felt a diminutive shower of black crumbs fall from my forehead all over my face. As I returned to my seat I touched my nose and the surrounding facial locations, and was mortified to see ashes all over my fingers. I guess I had gotten an extra-big chunk of ashes. I rubbed and dusted at my face until the ashes had been pretty much removed from my nose and cheeks (or else, been massaged into my pores) but knew that I wouldn't know the extent of the damage until I could get to a bathroom back at my office. (Of course, I met several people before I could get that far, and who knows if I'll be remembered as the girl with ashes all over her face.) Once I was back in the safety of the office ladies' room, I surveyed that I had sufficiently rubbed enough off that I probably hadn't earned that title. In the end it didn't really matter; what the heck, we're all walking around with this stuff on our foreheads partly for humility's sake; what's a little more than usual?
- Just accept that people may actually understand you more than you may expect. My stomach offered a lovely serenade of empty gurgles during the very quiet parts of Mass today. Ordinarily this would be rather awkward, but today, I trust more than a few people were able to be sympathetic, and may have been suffering similarly. You may not be as alone in your awkwardness as you think. Well, sometimes.
No comments:
Post a Comment