From Bashful to Blogger

If you’ve ever tickled a child, played peek-a-boo with one, or just watched them play, you know they were not born bashful or shy. For that reason, I don’t thing I was either. But somethings must have happened to turn me inward–to cause me to withdraw.

Some of them might have been me letting my older brother dominate over me. Perhaps having a father who worked out of state during critical bonding periods of my life contributed. But I kind of think it was simply because of an inborn tendency to be afraid of interacting with others, be they peers or adults.

Several years ago I engaged in a conversation with my younger sister, Connie. She is a retired therapist and about as bright a one that there ever was. I had brought up the idea that I was unhappy at being an introvert.

Then she taught me something I had never considered. First, being shy, bashful, withdrawn does not mean one is an introvert. Being outward going, gregarious, talkative does not make a person extroverted. She explained that being introverted or extroverted simply indicates where one goes to rebuild energy, to refocus, or just to relax.

In other words, a party person may rekindle his/her energy in a good book or taking a long solitary walk. A librarian or accountant might go dancing or organize a party to refill her/his energy banks. From the time of hearing this explanation I have felt a lot better about secluding myself while I write a book, or sitting down for hours on end composing a piece of music.

I graduated from college at the age of 30. I had spent two and a half years in a foreign country and four years in the navy, having served one tour of duty in Viet Nam–stationed just outside Da Nang. I had taught mathematics in the navy and received numerous letters of appreciation and accommodation for things I had done at my several duty stations. It all began during bootcamp at the Naval Training facility in San Diego where I was designated my company’s Honorman.

Let me digress a moment. In grade school I was chosen to take our classes March of Dimes contribution down town (Kansas City, Kansas) and during a radio broadcast present the money and tell everyone on the air how much we raised. I ran errands for the principal, distributed letters to the teachers, skipped recess on occasion to give a student a makeup spelling test. I was a main character in a story presentation we did for the parents of my classmates. I was responsible for setting up the chairs in the auditorium for instructional movies, PTA meetings, etc. And I was such a reliable crossing guard, that I held the position for most of my 6th grade year. (There was a street that ran between the two buildings which made up Chelsea Elementary and the kids crossed it before and after school and lunch and the big kid’s play ground was across the street.)

In junior high school I really pulled inside myself. After all, several elementary schools were all mixed together and the percentage of students I knew had drop drastically. In my 7th grade home room I don’t recall knowing anyone, yet I was elected sergeant at arms my first semester and president my second semester.

I could go on and on, but I won’t. Oh well, just one more. When I was a sophomore in high school I had a little reputation as an artist. I was asked to serve on the publicity committee for a couple who were running for Yearbook King and Queen. During the first meeting I had this incredible campaign slogan and it must have taken ten or fifteen minutes to get up the courage to raise my hand high enough to catch anyone’s attention. The candidates names were Sharon O’Neal and Larry Dimmit. I suggested we write their initials vertically along the left edge of the badges we were going to make–badges to be pinned to student’s shirts or blouses.  The slogan? “I’m SOLD on Sharon O’Neal and Larry Dimmit. They loved it and at the end of the year in what they wrote in me yearbook, you would think I won (yes, they won) the competition for them single handed.

I don’t know why none of these experiences built my self-confidence.

At my first job after college I had an office right next to the chief structural engineer for a large precast concrete company. I must have had some status, but I never caught on. I remember going into my bosses office and having my voice crack–I was so insecure and nervous.

Several years ago I finally observed some key factors in overcoming my people and situation fears.

I was born with a huge helping of HOPE. This never failed me and eventually I had accomplished so many things that I had to believe in myself. I was the first person in my family to serve a foreign mission for my church, to have a book published, to be a professional, etc.  I was the only one in my family to serve in the military, to build a house, own his own business, to fly over the north pole, to visit Europe and Asia, etc.

And now I write blogs and you are welcome to read as many as you like. I hope that from time to time you will pick up something that will motivate you to follow your dreams and make all the good ones come true.

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