With nearly four years of blogging under my belt, I have written an essay or two. OK, this post brings the count up to 300, not including the many I deleted because I clearly wrote them in my sleep. Either that or I had no clue what I was talking about. Since we all know that I am a pillar of knowledge and wisdom, I’m going with the sleep-writing. Please don’t burst my bubble.
Among 300 essays across a wide range of topics, this one about embracing my inner nerd is easily my favorite. I feel like it showcases my personality more fully than any other post in the archives. It highlights the witty, fun-loving side of me that is so often hidden in my writing underneath layers of serious reflection.
I had SO much fun writing that post! When I go back and read it, I feel like I am sitting in my living room with my closest friends, effortlessly being myself. After one of my dear friends read it, her comment was, “Lynnette, this is SO you!”
I am fluent in the language of silly sarcasm. Just ask my missionary son who gets weekly letters from me that are packed to the gills with witticisms. Such writing brings me immense joy.
But where has that girl been hiding? Where is the fun? Why have I buried that part of myself with seriousness, especially in my writing?
That is the question of the day.
To be true, I am good at being serious. I am married to a goofball, after all, and sometimes we must tone the silliness down a few notches, or we would never get anything done. I have assumed the role of the “please don’t laugh or you will only encourage him” wife, while I try to stifle my own laughter because he is hilarious. Except when he is not. (Would somebody please tell him that pulling his pants up to his chest is not funny? I might need therapy for witnessing that stunt a few too many times.)
But I am the serious and responsible one whose job it is to keep everybody on task. So please stop joking and get to work.
Recently, however, I have realized that the no-nonsense approach to life I have trained myself to execute feels incredibly heavy. It is almost like I am at the gym trying to bench press more weight than just the bar. That is harder than it sounds, my friends. There might be some barely audible grunting involved. And also some muttering under my breath that sounds like, “You have got to be kidding me, trainer John. I am not an Olympian, for goodness sake.”
As it turns out, I crave levity and laughter like it is going out of style, which is funny because those things are an integral part of my nature. I must have been hiding them in the name of responsibility in my life and inspiration in my writing. Because you have to be contemplative and serious to inspire others, and responsibility cannot be mingled with wit, or it is negated, right? Joking is not allowed in either instance if you want people to believe that you know what you are doing.
I don’t know who instituted that rule (I surely didn’t make it up), but I am rebelling and reclaiming my throne as the queen of sass.
The world is a serious place with tragedy and heartache coming out the wazoo, but we need not take ourselves too seriously. Let’s lighten things up and laugh a little, play a little, and put a little good-natured sarcasm to use while we try to enjoy this crazy little thing called life.
I hope you will join me for the ride.