Raise your hand if you heard that phrase growing up ad nauseam. Raise your other hand if your own inner voice says it to you when you have a moment – a shining moment when you actually didn’t flub it up and achieved five seconds of awesome. Now, slap yourself with one of those hands, preferably the weaker one.
I hope that didn’t hurt. It’s time to stop wet-blanketing our brilliance.
Today I invented a recipe; I thought about my ingredients and what I wanted them to come out looking like and I made it up, on the spot. It was AH-mazing. You read enough recipes and ratios just make sense. As I took it out of the oven and marveled at its golden bubbly perfection, I heard a sing-song sentence that sounded a little like me and a lot like Tina Fey.
Don’t let it go to your head, I say.
You know I talk to God, but this is never what he tells me when I’m winning.
I just have a thing with grandstanding. I’m working on it. Which is why I’m telling you about my Bananas Foster Baked Honey Wheat French Toast. OH yeah.
It irritates me but I resist the urge to be frustrated when yet another perfect selfie shows up in my Instagram, because, Dang, that IS a great picture of you. And because it doesn’t diminish me to admit it, in fact it teaches me about what I love.
Becoming students of what we appreciate is a great way to receive our unique identities and understand the colors we paint with.Tweet This
Oh, I get that I do it too, I showcase my own happy triumphs – hopefully we all do. When you have a good thing to shout about, I actually do care, so shout away! I’d prefer it was not pictures of your face every single day that make me feel like a stalker just for liking them, but hey, good for you for being so consistently cute.
The problem with being irked by social media swagger is that it effectively stifles my faith in my work, too. Questioning whether or not I have something to say drives me just as nuts. Now more than ever, though, good work can be celebrated well and we all have amazing reach these days through our social media to share good work, to cheer good work, and to create good work worth sharing.
I get ouchy about how strange it feels to trot out my own work, and I know a lot of creatives that share my struggle. We have a message and a platform or even just a willing group of friends, and still, when it comes time to speak up, we fall all over ourselves just to say, “Yes, I wrote this curriculum” or “Yes, this recipe is one of mine”.
Fighting past the idea of boasting to absolutely adore the good work of another person starts for me in my inbox. Sometimes I notice that someone I’ve subscribed to is just a little too post-happy for my taste.
You’re a little bit much, I say.
Someone that I follow emailed me three times this past week. That’s a lot of Hey, look at me. It’s D-Day for that one, the time has come. If I don’t like what she is posting today, then we’re through. Excuse me while I go open that last and potentially final email from her…
OH, I loved it. She stays. Why?
I get where she is coming from and I feel some resistance but I know that she has an important message and I want more of the value she brings me. Her new Bible study looks fresh and fabulous. This is why I subscribed to her blog in the first place. Hers is the kind of writing that furnishes my brainspace.
I hope you feel that way about receiving my offerings, because I’m plotting to add even more value for subscribers and readers, alike. I’m very excited about it. You matter to me. I don’t want to be just a voice yelling from your screens, Hey, look at me. In fact, wow, that is the last thing I want to be. If I’m yelling anything, I hope it is, Hey, look at HIM.
So here’s some breakfast. My gift because you showed up. There’s more where that came from. Let’s all be all about each other’s awesomeness. That’s in the Bible. Oh, and please, consider how you may spur one another on toward love and good deeds while you download my recipe for Bananas Foster Baked Honey Wheat French Toast.