I just finished chairing a committee for a craft fair/festival at my church. The event was yesterday and everyone seemed very pleased with the outcome. As I was thanked or complimented on my part in the process, I found myself actively discounting my own role. I think it might be part of my Southern roots ("What a lovely dress you're wearing today." "This old thing?").
I put in two eleven hour days, only had a quick snack (sugary) on both days, had one cup of coffee (but counteracted that with a mug of "Tension Tamer" tea) -- basically did not take care of my basic needs. But the lovely endorphins had taken over. I loved being so involved, caught up in the preparations, stretching myself, heading up an incredible team of volunteers. I smiled, laughed a bit, and displayed that I was pleased with the event and its successful outcome. I even ventured into uncomfortable territory by briefly holding the microphone and speaking (my voice didn't shake!).
At the conclusion of the day I was physically tired, but I was also weary and teary.
No surprise at the dream I had last night: I was at a festival and was chosen as the queen. There were gifts showered on me, but the best of these could only be obtained by rowing across a lake filled with snakes and guarded by menacing, hostile people who tried to persuade me that I couldn't make it across. When I reached the other side I was overwhelmed at the additional items I received -- a house, glamorous wardrobe, private chef -- you get the idea. Then sunset came and I was locked in a cell without windows or any basic comforts. When someone finally came to the door, I was told that my final gift was that I was to be sacrificed to appease the gods (this is why I prefer goddesses!). Then I awoke.
What I came away with from this dream is that I feel more rewarded by working toward a goal than actually achieving it. Something more for me to ponder.
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