Last year I made a New Year's resolution to read the entire Bible and the Catechism during the year. I was given a chart from a friend which had assigned the readings to be read each day from the Old Testament, the Psalms, Wisdom books, the New Testament as well as paragraphs in the Catechism so that by the end of the year I would have read it all. That seemed doable for some reason. I had a chart to mark off the days, and I wouldn't be "stuck" in the Old Testament for months on end, but I would be able to read the New Testament, and the Catechism (which surprisingly was highly interesting) in tandem with the Old Testament. The last time I resolved to read the Bible I tried cover to cover and I did not get past the Book of Leviticus before I quit!
Amazingly, last year was the first time I ever succeeded in any New Year's resolution! December 31 came and I had finished the entire Bible and the Catechism! Now, I wasn't perfect, there were days when I had issues that came along that took over my life and I didn't do my readings. Sometimes I was just a day or two behind, easy for me to catch up, but when my grandson was born in December, well I was a week behind. However, that still didn't stop me because I was so close to finishing and this resolution had taken on a life of itself, it had turned into a habit, which is the purpose of all resolutions when they are practiced daily. I truly needed to get back into my readings and caught up in a few days.
Amazingly, last year was the first time I ever succeeded in any New Year's resolution! December 31 came and I had finished the entire Bible and the Catechism! Now, I wasn't perfect, there were days when I had issues that came along that took over my life and I didn't do my readings. Sometimes I was just a day or two behind, easy for me to catch up, but when my grandson was born in December, well I was a week behind. However, that still didn't stop me because I was so close to finishing and this resolution had taken on a life of itself, it had turned into a habit, which is the purpose of all resolutions when they are practiced daily. I truly needed to get back into my readings and caught up in a few days.
I was so proud and happy that this year I decided to try another resolution. Our parish gave away a book to its members as a Christmas gift (Matthew Kelly's book "Perfectly Yourself"). It was only 210 pages and they also had podcasts to help you stay engaged. That made it even easier...but the crux to this all, I soon found out, was that you have to find something to change about yourself... in order to become the best version of yourself.
Well, immediately I thought, well that blows this resolution out the window. What the heck is my best version of myself? Somehow I am supposed to recognize that. Most times I already think I am perfect -- only kidding -- but seriously, I had to get deep down into myself and think of the faults I possess. I knew several already, but changing them -- permanently -- that ain't going to happen -- been there, done that! But what the heck, I'll continue to read the book and see where it goes, just finishing the book is part of the resolution...and who knows maybe I will surprise myself.
So, what happens? I started seeing some of my imperfections and thought, well this is hopeless... becoming my best version of myself... I should have started years ago... but then, on page 6, I read this: A tree does not try to make all of its branches straight. It is perfect in its imperfection, perfectly imperfect. And yet it does change and grow over time.
Well Kelly got me on this...I love trees, always taking pictures of the most distorted ones I can find as their twisted branches are what gives them beauty and character. If I were a tree, I wouldn't want to be the straightest perfect tree -- after all they are the ones that get chopped down at Christmas time and then tossed away the day after. I wanted to be like the ones in the forest that everyone loves in their twistedness. That doesn't mean I didn't want to be perfect... because I do. As Jesus says..."Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." But now I realized that I could be imperfectly perfect -- a constant work in progress and still reach my goal...
Further along in the book Kelly talks about getting a glimpse of the best version of yourself. Recognize it, understand its secret, and then strive to duplicate that again and again. I thought this would be hard to do as well... after seeing all my imperfections I don't think there has ever been a time when I ever expressed my best version of myself. I thought about this a long time, and then realized that I DID see a perfect version of myself. Late last fall, before I even started reading this book, I experienced the best version of myself and I even thought about what I could do, or should do to be more like that version of myself!
I then realized that I experienced this whole idea of being the best version of myself practically my whole life... and it all started in the weirdest way... partly because of the high opinion I had of myself... as self-deluded as that may sound.
The Back Story:
It all started on the day I was born... long story short, I was the fourth child in a family of eight. Three sons were born first which easily fulfilled the Sicilian requirement of having a son. Now, my parents really wanted a girl. They even had my name picked out--I was going to be named after my paternal grandmother. They just needed me to come out a girl... and I did. What was amazing, in my child-like mind, was that I was born on the same day as the feast day of my patron saint. Growing up Catholic, I knew that meant I was destined to be a saint... coincidences like this just don't happen without a reason. Yes, I know that is pretty deluded, but nonetheless I tried to lead this perfect life of self-giving. Helping strangers by picking up things they dropped (which people thought I was very sweet to do) and "preaching" how my siblings should behave (which was often thought of as being bossy.) Of course as I grew up the idea of sainthood vanished--it was a lot harder and more time-consuming than I had the initiative to carry on with. But the important part of this story is that I developed the habit of doing things for others and watching out for other's needs.
I then realized that I experienced this whole idea of being the best version of myself practically my whole life... and it all started in the weirdest way... partly because of the high opinion I had of myself... as self-deluded as that may sound.
The Back Story:
It all started on the day I was born... long story short, I was the fourth child in a family of eight. Three sons were born first which easily fulfilled the Sicilian requirement of having a son. Now, my parents really wanted a girl. They even had my name picked out--I was going to be named after my paternal grandmother. They just needed me to come out a girl... and I did. What was amazing, in my child-like mind, was that I was born on the same day as the feast day of my patron saint. Growing up Catholic, I knew that meant I was destined to be a saint... coincidences like this just don't happen without a reason. Yes, I know that is pretty deluded, but nonetheless I tried to lead this perfect life of self-giving. Helping strangers by picking up things they dropped (which people thought I was very sweet to do) and "preaching" how my siblings should behave (which was often thought of as being bossy.) Of course as I grew up the idea of sainthood vanished--it was a lot harder and more time-consuming than I had the initiative to carry on with. But the important part of this story is that I developed the habit of doing things for others and watching out for other's needs.
The Current Story:
Last fall my husband and I spent a month back East "taking care" of his mother who has dementia. We have been going back East for a few years now to give his sister, who lives near mom, a break while she goes on vacation. Because mom's dementia had progress to the point that she could no longer live by herself we had just moved her into assisted living, and we would have to see her every day to make sure she would adjust to it. Before we arrived, we told her we were coming several times over the phone, and she was very excited to see us. But when we arrived, she had totally forgotten we were coming. When she saw us, she started crying as she was so surprised we came to see her. My husband and I were saddened to see how bad her dementia had truly become but we were thankful that she recognized us, even though our names were not readily available for her to call us by name. Knowing how much she needed to see us made this month-long visit with her more meaningful to us.
Later in the visit we had dinner with her at her residence as she wanted to "show us off" to her new-found friends. We sat at her usual table and my husband sat next to her so he could concentrate on her and I sat across the table next to her "eating buddy." I spent most of my time talking to her friend who seemed quiet and possibly felt out of place, so I did what I could to make her feel comfortable. We had a good time talking and laughing, mostly about the spinach I suggested she eat for dinner. She kept insisted that she did not like spinach -- never ate it as a child and had no plans to start eating it now, even though I told her how good it was for her and how Popeye always ate his spinach. I helped her cut her meat, as that was a difficult task for her to do and we both enjoyed each other's company having a good time talking and laughing during the whole meal. I saw her again the next day as we dropped mom off at an activity and I knelt down next to her wheelchair to say hello to her and reminisce about our spinach conversation. She started laughing again and I told her I was so happy to see her again and just had to say hello. At that moment, she started crying and I realized that she was very lonely and not use to having visitors. I put my arm around her and kissed her and tried to comfort her the best I could. And before long I had her laughing again. A week later, it was our last day, and we were saying goodbye to mom and walking her to supper, where I saw her friend and I wanted to say goodbye to her before I left. To my surprise she didn't know who I was. I did not know she had dementia too, but after a few moments of talking with her we became friends all over again, laughing about spinach.
As we left and headed back home, I could not help thinking of her and how good it felt to have been able to spend time with her and provide something she truly needed. It was reminiscent of the times, as a young girl, I worked so hard trying to be saint-like. I thought at that moment... this is the kind of person I liked being... going out of my way to help others, being a caring and loving person. Taking the time to make others happy and getting back to that little girl who tried so hard to become a saint... I mean actually working on it!
So reading Kelly's book has opened my eyes again to see my perfect self. The person I would like to be all the time. The person I need to duplicate over and over again So maybe I can work on this new resolution... becoming the best version of myself. I have the rest of my lifetime to obtain it, I know it can't be done in a year's time, but the journey, if I focus on the changes in me and not the far off goal, should be amazing. All I need to do is to walk in the footsteps of Jesus...become a true disciple, and when I fail, trust in Him, knowing I need His help and that He is always there to give it to me -- to pick me up and carry me through.
