I have a problem. I need to figure out how to be less emotionally invested. Especially in the area of gift giving and service. I have too much ego invested.
Awhile back, I made a baby quilt for someone which I
sent off in the mail. It was a little something
that took me, oh, about 20 hours to create. But whatever. That is
neither here nor there.
Several weeks have passed (3 months but who's counting), and I have heard nothing, no acknowledgement, nada. It is like I am dead to them. Although. How can a dead person spend 30 hours making a lil’ something to drop in the mail? Can’t. So naturally, my feelings are devastated shredded whipped bruised an itsy bit hurt given that I spent about 40 hours working on this little creative gifty thing.
So, I’m thinking that is kind of weird. Either they hated it or are offended or both. Or they hate me. Or all three. Or! They don’t appreciate that I spent 50 hours of my life working on this little bit o’fabric art.
So I tell Dane about it and he does this thing that always aggravates me. He’s logical. And charitable. And worse? He takes up for the offending party. “Well they probably never received it,” he said.
It is lonely on my bandwagon. Yes it is. Many seats are available. Form one line please.
Shortly thereafter my cell phone rings but I can’t get to it before it goes to voice mail. Later I check the voice mail and it is someone from a galaxy far far away, in another area code, someone I don’t know. She has left a long and rambling message for someone who is not me. For five minutes she talks about the new baby and the yarn she has bought and what would I like for her to make for the new baby and on and on.
I considered calling the yarn lady back, but I have a phone phobia. I do not like to talk on the telephone. I am fearful that I might just blurt out some random thought (a lot like this post) or that I might launch into an unfortunate choice of story and not be able to stop myself. Like this post.
And based on the length of the message, I have to assume she would engage me and there would be talking, a lot of talking, maybe even about yarn which I know nothing about, and I just can’t do it. I’m just telling you that up front because I know y’all (that's North Carolinian for you all) will blast me for not returning the call. But I just can’t. I would email her but that is the one bit of information she didn’t leave.
Anyway.
So when Dane came in for dinner, I told him about the yarn lady and the wrong number.
He shook his head and laughed and may have even pointed his finger at me. “Somewhere,” he said “there is a woman with hurt feelings because someone never acknowledged her.”
So I said the most obvious and logical thing. “Fine! Fix your own dinner.”
Aggravating as that is, my question is how do you give gifts and service from the heart and divorce yourself from the expectation of gratitude or at least acknowledgement? I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time with my nose out of joint. We are living in a mannerless world and I don't like it!
The logical side of me knows that is just silly. People are busy and everyone has a story...a story we can't see. But that doesn't stop my nose from getting out of joint. Oh and is Dane right? Should I call the "Yarn Lady" back?
Several weeks have passed (3 months but who's counting), and I have heard nothing, no acknowledgement, nada. It is like I am dead to them. Although. How can a dead person spend 30 hours making a lil’ something to drop in the mail? Can’t. So naturally, my feelings are devastated shredded whipped bruised an itsy bit hurt given that I spent about 40 hours working on this little creative gifty thing.
So, I’m thinking that is kind of weird. Either they hated it or are offended or both. Or they hate me. Or all three. Or! They don’t appreciate that I spent 50 hours of my life working on this little bit o’fabric art.
So I tell Dane about it and he does this thing that always aggravates me. He’s logical. And charitable. And worse? He takes up for the offending party. “Well they probably never received it,” he said.
It is lonely on my bandwagon. Yes it is. Many seats are available. Form one line please.
Shortly thereafter my cell phone rings but I can’t get to it before it goes to voice mail. Later I check the voice mail and it is someone from a galaxy far far away, in another area code, someone I don’t know. She has left a long and rambling message for someone who is not me. For five minutes she talks about the new baby and the yarn she has bought and what would I like for her to make for the new baby and on and on.
I considered calling the yarn lady back, but I have a phone phobia. I do not like to talk on the telephone. I am fearful that I might just blurt out some random thought (a lot like this post) or that I might launch into an unfortunate choice of story and not be able to stop myself. Like this post.
And based on the length of the message, I have to assume she would engage me and there would be talking, a lot of talking, maybe even about yarn which I know nothing about, and I just can’t do it. I’m just telling you that up front because I know y’all (that's North Carolinian for you all) will blast me for not returning the call. But I just can’t. I would email her but that is the one bit of information she didn’t leave.
Anyway.
So when Dane came in for dinner, I told him about the yarn lady and the wrong number.
He shook his head and laughed and may have even pointed his finger at me. “Somewhere,” he said “there is a woman with hurt feelings because someone never acknowledged her.”
So I said the most obvious and logical thing. “Fine! Fix your own dinner.”
Aggravating as that is, my question is how do you give gifts and service from the heart and divorce yourself from the expectation of gratitude or at least acknowledgement? I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time with my nose out of joint. We are living in a mannerless world and I don't like it!
The logical side of me knows that is just silly. People are busy and everyone has a story...a story we can't see. But that doesn't stop my nose from getting out of joint. Oh and is Dane right? Should I call the "Yarn Lady" back?
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