Around every New Year's Day, or, if I procrastinate, sometime before the end of January, I tend to do a little personal inventory.
I know what I am pretty good at: my work, raising kids, being a wife, being a friend, skiing, shooting, tennis, golf, sailing, reading, and a few other things too. But I force myself to take time to focus on the things I am bad at. I wonder whether they are amenable to improvement, or whether they are hopeless.
As one grows older, more flaws and weaknesses move from the "Maybe Improveable" into the "Hopeless" category. The reality of one's limits sinks in by repeatedly bumping into reality, one's identity clarifies itself, and one's humility deepens.
Here are just a few of the things I stink at, and which have been contemplating this January:
Being a leader. I am a natural born non-leader. Not a follower by any means (in fact, a lousy follower too), but utterly lacking in leadership skills or talents. When I say "Follow me!" nobody follows. And when somebody else says "Follow me!" I say "Wait a minute, and let me think about it."
Being an executive. I am terrible at running things, and the things I get involved with running only work when the others take initiative. I am terrible at making organizational decisions except at the most elementary level, and I am a complete retard with office politics. I care enough, but I can't make things happen. Plus I detest going to meetings. They make me squirrely.
Paperwork. I derive no pleasure or satisfaction from getting it done, and, despite years of determination, I find myself still making excuses to avoid it.
Writing. I give plenty of talks and lectures, and do that well enough to convey information. I have plenty of ideas and things I think are worth writing about, but I lack the talent to write in memorable or engaging ways. I am at my best speaking off the cuff. And it's not that I dislike writing. I like to write things. I just never like the way it comes off on paper. Dull and pedantic, even when I try to write casual. That's partly why I do not post more regularly here. I am never even half-satisfied with what I put on paper. I have written a number of posts for Maggie's, read them the next day, said "That's lame," and pushed "delete."
Phone calls. Unlike most women, I hate the phone. I avoid the phone. Basically, I will not make phone calls except under duress. I cannot get over this flaw. Maybe it's because I spend my days talking to people, but that sounds like an excuse. Anyhow, email is what makes my life function nowadays.
