The first gallery wall I ever saw was at my friend Anna’s house in San Luis Obispo. I remember walking in to the living room and seeing it above the couch – such an eclectic collection of items, but somehow perfectly cohesive and lawlessly beautiful.
Anna is amazing. She is deep and introspective, and her laugh makes your soul feel lighter. Anna loves lavishly, and that love overflows into her hospitality and homemaking. She taught me about butter bells, cooks scones from scratch, and reads cookbooks cover to cover like a novel. Given how highly I esteemed her homemaking, to me this newest addition to her home was neither unexpected nor attainable.
Maybe everyone was equally inspired by Anna, maybe there was something in the wind, but gallery walls seemed to spread like wildfire. Beautiful and creative wildfire.
When I started Wildflowers & Progress, I caught myself filtering decisions about the blog through a sieve of fear regarding what a particular friend would think of me. This person has been a good friend through difficult times, but they don’t have a desire to understand what they deem illogical. They call it like they see it, even at the risk of hurting or discouraging others. I’ve been hurt by this friend, and there’s one instance in particular that I’ve carried with me for far too long.
A few years ago, I was embarking on a new challenge that I was really excited about. I shared it with this friend, and they said that I would fail, and even if I somehow succeeded, it was still a bad idea. Ouch.
I know some people believe a true friend will support you in whatever you want to do, and while there’s some merit to this, I think it’s oversimplified. If I tell a friend I’m going to jump off a building and neglect to mention I’m bungee jumping, they’re right to want to stop me.
I think that’s what happened here. This friend was operating on misinformation, but their intention was to protect me. True, I wish we could have had a discussion about my perspective, but even that’s not the real problem.
First things first: Nobody is fully encompassed by one personality type. The purpose of this post is not to oversimplify people, but rather to better understand ourselves and others, so that we can love others better.
I share this post because I’ve definitely made mistakes and learned lessons that I’m hoping to give you the shortcut to!
While there are many great personality profiles, this breakdown comes from Florence Littauer’s Personality Plus book. I fully recommend picking it up, as it’s obviously much more comprehensive than this post.
Still, I’ll do my best to provide something entertaining and valuable!
I currently have shingles. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s essentially chicken pox rearing it’s ugly head again – except in a condensed form that trades itching for nerve pain. It’s typically seen in people 50+, but hey, I’m an early bloomer.
When I was in the shower this afternoon, I noodled over how people have been saying that I’ve been doing so well with the pain. And it came to me – they don’t actually know how tough I am.
So, I have something to tell you probably already know: I’m not the perfect wife.
While you’re most likely not shocked to learn that piece of information – I (embarrassingly) was!
Let me back up a little bit and give some context. When Ken and I got married, we talked a lot about expectations and hopes in marriage. Ken said that what one of the things he most wanted was a peaceful home.
This didn’t come as a surprise. If you know my husband, you know that he loves peace. When we went through the Servants By Design personality survey, Harmonizer was his highest rank. Put simply, that means that any disruption in the peace really affects him and wears on him.
So – the determined taskmaster that I am – I decided to give him the most gosh-darn peaceful home he’s ever seen! I started each day with a check-list, and frantically tired to create a peaceful home. Dishes? Done! Food? Cooked! Living room? Clean! Groceries? Purchased and put away! Finances? Managed! And on and on. Day after day.
Man, I was nailing this peaceful home thing, right?