being who I am

So much of the time I feel lacking–incompetent and not very lovable. For example: though I try and try, I can’t play the piano well–or even passably, I never managed to finish my dissertation (some forty-five years ago!), and though I had many friends in school from the beginning through grad school, I have very few now. Some of my students over the years praised and thanked me, but some hated me. I m overly emotional and easily hurt and tend to express my misery in various situations (a granddaughter glares at me when I have scolded her brother for misbehavior, old friends once again can’t be pinned down about getting together for dinner) with embarrassing outbursts of self-pity. Though I *want* to be patient and kind I am often irritable and selfish.

(And yet, despite all of the above and much more of the same, I am blessed with a gentle and patient wonderful husband, a good son, three very precious young grandchildren, and a church community that is a support and that focuses very much on issues of equality and social justice. And with the very existence of music and singing and good food and natural beauty and good books and poetry, and a roof over our heads and heat and running water and so on.)