Imagine...

As a child, and even right on up through High School, one of my favorite parts of the day was getting the mail. I never really got anything but every day held the promise that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day that something would come for me. What was I looking for? Sure there were the birthday cards from relatives but those only spanned a 2 or 3 day period during the year. Christmas time was interesting because I figured out somewhere around late elementary school that if a holiday card was addressed to "The Cutler Family", that meant me. I was part of the family. I think it used to drive my mother crazy that I opened a good 75% percent of the Christmas cards that came to our house.

I still love to get the mail. I still don't get much, mostly bills and catalogs but there are a few gems in my mailbox each month. The diamond of the bunch is my Cooking Light. When it arrives I read it cover to cover, sometimes more than once. This amazes my husband. He is a man who reads the Wall Street Journal. I read People and he reads Forbes. He consumes The Economist like a cookie and I consume..well I consume a cookie. We differ so much in our choice of reading material that you can imagine his sheer delight when I pick up his Fortune magazine each time it arrives and I immediately flip to the very last page to read a delightful column written by my boy Stanley Bing. Mr. Bing is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and he writes about everything from his love affair with his blackberry (this is probably why I adore him) to his list of 50 bull***t jobs. From time to time I will peruse the rest of the magazine as well but I never miss one of Stanley Bing's columns. Today I started to read it and was so taken with the first paragraph that I want to share it with you. It read:

"This is the story of a guy named Fred who dared to see himself as something bigger. And because he did - because he was able to take that leap of faith - he made a good thing happen. Those who dare to imagine sometimes get what they want. Those who don't never do."

How great is that? Truer words were never spoken (or written) yet most of us don't even come close to realizing it. Why is it so hard to believe in ourselves? To figure out what it is that we want? I'm as guilty of this as anyone. Sure my life is great. I love being a wife and a mom but I also know that this is not my final destination; my final identity. I want to be known and remembered for more. The problem I find is that I don't know what that "more" is. When I left home for college I intended to major in Psychology. I didn't. What I did instead was get a degree in Journalism. That lasted me for about three years. Then I started having babies and my priorities shifted. I have a job at a very respected company that allows me the flexibility to be home when I need to, and have more time with my kids while they are small, but still bring home a paycheck. Like I said, my life is good, but I do know that someday I will want more. I know I have hidden talents that are simmering deep in my soul just looking for, or waiting for, the opportunity to emerge. I don't want to be that person who sits in her empty nest some day and no longer has her own identity. I love giving myself to my children now but some day when they are gone, I need to make sure there is still enough of me, the individual, left to continue on a path of self respect.

So, how am I going to do that? I don't know if I am any closer to answering that as I near the end of this post than I was when I began but I do know something that I will take from what Stanley Bing wrote. Imagination. We all have one. I spend hours encouraging my children to use theirs. Maybe it's time I start to use mine. Maybe it's time I dare to imagine a little bigger and actually make something happen. Not try to make something happen because as a coworker recently told me, "trying to is lying to". You either do it, or you don't. Maybe I need to be looking in other places for my inspiration. Sometimes the answer to our prayers is right under our nose. Maybe for me, it's in my mailbox. :) I'll keep you posted...