Thoughts about faith, hope, and the rest of life
[This post is in response to my friend, Amelia’s, post entitled “Dear Introverts (An Honest Letter from an Extrovert).” It is the first in a series of posts about My Introvert Life.]
Dear Extroverts,
You amaze me. Your outgoing friendliness, your capacity for life and people, your sheer energy! I’m fascinated by the way you can go from engagement to engagement without taking a break. And how you never seem to be at a loss for words.
I used to be a ballerina. Not a professional, but a pretty darned serious dancer. I danced for fifteen years, beginning at the tender age of 3. And towards the end of my “career,” I was at the studio 7 days a week, dancing for 1.5 to 3 hours a day. Looking back, I can say that ballet was woven into the fabric of my being as only something that played a part of my most formative years could be.
Meetings can be oh-so-very boring. I have sat through my fair share of dull, uninspired, and ineffective meetings at work and church. And I have often wondered (while sitting through such meetings) why so many people go through the motions when it seems like a royal waste of time.
Olive and I are continually amazed at the people who are reading our blog. Last week, a UBC business student that I mentor told me that his classmate showed him our blog. I’ve heard from friends that say they love reading about Olive’s experiences as a new mother. A small group member told us her colleagues at work follow our blog. And one of my colleague’s friends (whom we have never met) messaged this to me on Twitter: “@timtchan you and Olive’s blog is really inspirational and encouraging! Thank you for sharing your experiences and thoughts!”
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I’ve often wondered if there is any significance to recurring dreams. Is it a sign of things to come? Is it a reflection of things that I worry about? Is my subconscious trying to send me a message? Is God trying to use these dreams to speak to me?
There are three recurring dreams that I have:
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Without realizing it, I had slowly become a coward. This week, God invited me to step out of that hiding place and really live again.
Ever since I burned out at the end of 2007, I somewhat unconsciously swung from go-with-a-gusto approach to life to self-protection mode. (Visit here for my blog dedicated to my burnout experience.) I think it’s natural and understandable that I reacted to feeling utterly depleted and spent from life by being careful with how I used my time and energy. But I was gently shown this week that the pendulum had swung to the other extreme. I had, in a way, over-corrected.
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In my conversations with people, one of the recurring unspoken sentiments I hear is a request for permission to be themselves. No one actually says it in quite those words, of course, but under the surface, the question often is, “Am I ok (especially if I’m not like others)?”
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