Fully immersed in my little universe, I am unaware of the world around me. When I’m writing, I can sit down at 10 am, thinking I have hours to pen my truth in silence, and then suddenly my daughter walks in the door from school. I find it hard to imagine it’s 2 pm already and feel she has played a trick on me and come home from school early. Have you had that feeling? Have you experienced those times when you’ve been doing something you love and are so focused that the passing of time seems irrelevant and unnoticeable? If you have experienced this like me, you have possibly found your passion. I have had more than one in my life. Those passions are writing and reading, playing the piano, singing, rollerblading, hiking, running, and baton twirling.
This morning I invited a few people I love to share something they remember about me, and my sister accepted the challenge. She sent me a comment by text that sparked the idea for today’s blog entry. You see, during several of my full immersion moments while practicing my baton twirling, my sister was sitting on the outside looking in. Because I was laser-focused and determined to be the best, I tuned out everything and concentrated only on twirling. I was so determined to sharpen my skills I would practice with as little light as possible outside at night and depend on my timing and senses to feel when to snatch the spinning baton that was falling towards me out of the air. Sometimes I would miss, and often I would end up with a few bruises on my face, arms, and legs. I never felt the pain, though, because I was on a mission. I never noticed someone sitting there and had forgotten how often my sister was watching. I would never have imagined the feelings she had for me as she stared on at me feverish, laboring for perfection. The truth is, You don’t always know who’s watching you, and you can never be sure what they see. I have always looked up to my big sister, and the text she sent me following my request for a memory made me realize while I was stressing and striving to be my best, someone was standing right beside me who already thought I was.
I am 53 now, and the text from my sister reflects a memory she had of me when I was in my teens.
“Jeri, the only memory I can think of is when you were in high school, and you were head majorette. I would sit and watch you many, many evenings while you practiced your twirling. I was so amazed at how cool it was that you could do that so incredibly well and how hard you worked at it. I was so proud of you ❤️. I am still proud of you! You were a very talented person. Then and now!” T.A. (My sweet sister)