I Danced With Self-Pity and Then Decided to Grow Up
Checkered and I went to a banquet at church a few nights ago. It was different from the typical church banquet because it was formal and lovely. The paparazzi greeted us as we all arrived and that immediately rendered most of us tongue-tied. When I was asked what I most appreciated about my church volunteer activities, all I could think to say was that I was glad I wasn't doing anything at the church at this time. It was a rough start.
We finally made our way to main room and were faced with many seating options. It was wonderfully comfortable to know that we could have sat at any of those tables and been welcomed by the others there. Then, after spending several minutes pondering our choice of table, we were told that we had assigned seating (because Checkered was in a skit and needed to be in a specific location.)
Our dinner companions for the evening were: two very quiet couples of a different generation than ours. We know each of those couples nominally - that's all. The other couple were absolute strangers to us. I was okay with our seats until I looked over at the next table.
At that table were five couples. Younger, beautiful and most all inter-related in some way or another to each other. There was such a sense of intimacy there, such a sense of belonging to each other, such a joy at their togetherness, that I was immediately filled with jealousy. Here I sat with people to whom I was not connected in any way. Here I sat with quiet people. Here I sat wishing I were at that other table. I was flirting like crazy with Self-Pity.
The evening progressed. The food was delicious. The entertainment was truly fun. But I kept looking over at that table and feeling a little cheated as they laughed and laughed and laughed.
At our table I was determined to not sit in silence, so we chatted and asked questions, and the more we did that, the more the other couples opened up. We learned how each of the couples met, learned about their families and jobs, and we shared some genuine laughter. But then Self-Pity would ask and I would agree to another spin around the dance floor with him. Then I would return to the conversation and decide all over again that things were okay. Then Self-Pity would stop by again...well, you can see the picture by now.
By the end of the evening as we all worked together to break down the banquet accoutrements and set up for the next morning's service, I was having a lovely time.
And because I love minutia, I analyzed repeatedly what had transpired over the course of the evening.
I am very happy that we left that banquet knowing more people than we knew going in. That would not have happened at that other table. I am very happy that I had to get beyond my own insecurities, and I deeply regret the dance time I gave to Self-Pity.
I guess I grew up a little, and that's a good thing. Right?
We finally made our way to main room and were faced with many seating options. It was wonderfully comfortable to know that we could have sat at any of those tables and been welcomed by the others there. Then, after spending several minutes pondering our choice of table, we were told that we had assigned seating (because Checkered was in a skit and needed to be in a specific location.)
Our dinner companions for the evening were: two very quiet couples of a different generation than ours. We know each of those couples nominally - that's all. The other couple were absolute strangers to us. I was okay with our seats until I looked over at the next table.
At that table were five couples. Younger, beautiful and most all inter-related in some way or another to each other. There was such a sense of intimacy there, such a sense of belonging to each other, such a joy at their togetherness, that I was immediately filled with jealousy. Here I sat with people to whom I was not connected in any way. Here I sat with quiet people. Here I sat wishing I were at that other table. I was flirting like crazy with Self-Pity.
The evening progressed. The food was delicious. The entertainment was truly fun. But I kept looking over at that table and feeling a little cheated as they laughed and laughed and laughed.
At our table I was determined to not sit in silence, so we chatted and asked questions, and the more we did that, the more the other couples opened up. We learned how each of the couples met, learned about their families and jobs, and we shared some genuine laughter. But then Self-Pity would ask and I would agree to another spin around the dance floor with him. Then I would return to the conversation and decide all over again that things were okay. Then Self-Pity would stop by again...well, you can see the picture by now.
By the end of the evening as we all worked together to break down the banquet accoutrements and set up for the next morning's service, I was having a lovely time.
And because I love minutia, I analyzed repeatedly what had transpired over the course of the evening.
I am very happy that we left that banquet knowing more people than we knew going in. That would not have happened at that other table. I am very happy that I had to get beyond my own insecurities, and I deeply regret the dance time I gave to Self-Pity.
I guess I grew up a little, and that's a good thing. Right?
Yes, that is a good thing! I'm glad that you opened up to the people at your table. I have to say, as someone who has moved into a tight-knit community twelve years ago... I think there are people out there who have missed out on an opportunity to get to know us. They are so "safe" in their own net-work of friends and families that it seems they have no reason to try to get to know our family.
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Ok... if the paparazzi were there... where are the photos?!
Secondly, I love the word accouterments. I use it often. Thank you for sticking it in a post. You are my only other blog friend who would.
As for self pity, next time, just work the room. Own it. Get up and walk around at some point. Pretend you are the bride or something. Make you way over to the other table for awhile, say hi. Have a moment or two with the pretty people, then make your way back to the quiet table and be queen of it. You know you're the queen. haha.
Sounds like you grew up a little. Now where are the photos of the night? Are there any? Hmmm????
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At first I was excited that they took our picture, then I wondered if it would somehow be coupled with my quote bragging how I do nothing in the church. *sigh*
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caution,
What a very good post! I could identify with how you initially felt.....envying the closeness that seemed apparent at the other table.....have been in similar situations! Slowly, slowly, I'm learning that the way things turn out is the way its supposed to be......that whatever circumstance (or table) I get placed at has a reason and a purpose. A wise friend used to say, concerning life, "You have to play the cards you're dealt".
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Yep you grew some... One of my philosophies is that each day I want to learn something no matter how big or how small... to not learn or grow is to die and I am just not even close to that. Sounds like a wonderful time and I am glad that you ended up truly enjoying it.
HUGSSSSS
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