About 15 years ago, I asked friends & pleasant acquaintances to share one word that came to mind thinking of me. All but one of them were along the lines of creative, outgoing, generous, kind, caring - the only ones of that lot with a whiff of negative were gabby & garrulous. But the one that stood out to me was the life coach who tagged me as INTRUSIVE.
Friends were stunned. How weird! Yet of all the responses, that was the one I took most to heart.
It's a safe bet that the primary reason my surviving siblings seem irked when I'm around is the sense I'm pushing in where I don't belong. Without the tag, I would never have considered that possibility. But once the word came up, could see it running like a dominant thread through the tapestry of my life.
Had a nice chat this morning at the post office with the person who tagged me as intrusive. Over the past fifteen years, my interests have developed to the point where she could feel a connection back to me, which she couldn't back then. I am the same person as all those years ago, but because of all my work with kids & older friends & the community, she SEES me differently, experiences me in a more engaged way.
Looking back, I was intrusive, seeming to feel at home in situations many others would feel out of place, not holding back in strange environments, putting myself out where others might take a step back. Fact is, I not only still am, am probably much more so than back then. But now I see it as a gift, having a different perspective on life, relationship, living a horn to hoof life. The fact of the matter is that I flat-out love life. That might sound corny, but I do. Even the stinky parts. It's all it is. My only regret is that more people don't realize the same thing.
So, yeah - I'm intrusive. I'm going to see you even when you don't expect to be seen, I'm going to be interested in you even if you can't figure out why, and - most potentially irksome of all - I'm going to care about you just because we share space on the same plant at the same time.
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