Gratitude Monday--A Blessing of Work Edition

I've had some freelance work come my way. I am grateful to have it, and further grateful I was thought of for it.
Here's what happened.
The two reporters at the local paper gave their notices effective for the same day, next Monday.
That left the editor in a bind as there are some special sections due along with the regular work.
My friend at The Mountaineer, Bernie Visotto, asked me if I'd be interested in filling in until the new staff started in a few weeks.  If so, then I should contact the editor.
I am very grateful to her for this.
I discussed it with the editor and agreed to take on a few assignments over the next few weeks. I'll get the specifics of the work tomorrow.
This is all good. It's where I used to work. While most of the people there are different from those I worked with, the work itself is virtually the same.
That helps a great deal.

But wait, there's more.
I've been working at home since 2001 though I did some freelance for the paper back around 2008.
I like it in that I don't have to go out much and I can stay away from people. As an introvert I think that's important.
However, several weeks ago around the beginning of January a thought flowed into my mind during meditation.
It's time to go out in the world.
This thought came to me several times over the next several days.
Rather than shy away I found it intriguing. I had no idea what I was supposed to do so I did the thing you're supposed to do.
I put it out to God/Universe/ All That Is.
Whenever the thought flowed to me I said I am totally game to do it, but how it comes about is up to you.
The offer is clearly the how of it.

Shortly before I got this offer I felt excited, jittery almost, as if something were  about to happen.
It did, and for it I am grateful.

The Blessings Of Weird

Some aspects of life take a while to be seen as blessings.
Being called weird or odd or other names might sting a bit when you’re young, but eventually you know better.

For the longest time there was that little part of me that wanted to fit in and be like everyone else even though I knew deeply down inside that I couldn’t stomach the type of compromise it would take to do it.

Anyway, stretching my mind back over the years and viewing this objectively led me down an interesting path.
Were the name–callers straight-laced types?

Yeah, mostly.

Maybe they were jealous. Perhaps they would have liked nothing better than to loosen up a bit, but couldn’t. Perhaps it was due to a restrictive family life, or maybe they’d locked themselves into being a good girl or boy and were too scared to let their souls out.

Well, that’s where they were. They have their lessons. I have mine.

If they felt better labeling me, then in retrospect I believe that’s what they needed to do. Maybe I was doing them a service by being a target. It certainly makes me feel good to think so.

It was a blessing, really, to be called names. It didn’t stop me. I was quiet most of the time, but when I did say or do something it was exactly what was on my mind. I plain don’t know any better. If that made me odd, then so be it.

It’s freeing. I still do it and most people are used to me now. They expect it. The truth spills out before I have much time to edit myself.

It’s been years since someone called me weird without me sensing a certain amount of affection within his or her tone of voice.
That could be my imagination. If so, I think I’ll hang onto it.
It serves me well.