“Don’t fall. Please don’t fall” I pleaded with the beautiful china plate as I tried to hang it on the wall. I had recently made it with beautiful, sparkly jewels and I was hanging it on my colorful back porch. The plate hanger was hanging over a nail, but I was trying to “engineer” the two together (with a wire) so the plate wouldn’t fall off the nail and break.
I spent a recent morning looking through scrapbooks. I made the scrapbooks when my children were little because I needed something to look forward to at the end of the day. I was a stay-at-home mommy to two toddlers that were 20 months apart, and every night at 9 pm, after they were put to bed, I scrapbooked. I eventually completed about thirty scrapbooks. I desperately needed that creative outlet.
I have had a love/hate with my personality for 45 years now. This came to a head recently when I was doing a “personal inventory” of my life for an upcoming speaker’s conference. The questionnaire asked, “What is your greatest regret?” As I considered many aspects of my life, my marriage, my parenting, relationships, profession, education, etc., I settled on this one thought.
My greatest regret is being me.