I drew a crowd today.
Not by wit or wisdom; neither in distress nor brilliance. Simply because I am a woman…accomplished in something seldom seen in a female: I backed a 53 foot boat into a tight spot and docked her, by myself.
I chuckle every time I display this “courage and aplomb,” as one of the many men watching my maneuvers commented. If I were a man (and, thankfully, I’m not. Four appendages are all I can keep track of…) there’d be no angst or amazement as I rounded the dock in reverse, against the wind and tide. There’d be no applause when I disembarked to tie the stern and bow securely to their cleats.
I could rail against the bewilderment of most men at my solo journeys aboard my vessel every summer. Gloria Steinem certainly would, chalking it up to chauvinism. But Gloria would miss something in her ire that I never have: the pure pleasure of doing it.
I wager that her anger (wasn’t she always angry?) made her miss many things. Anger turns us blind. Too many times we seek the approval of others to validate our accomplishments rather than taking them for the joy that only we can feel at their conclusion.
Doing the best one can do simply for the achievement is not a new idea, but it is often lost against the gauge of other rewards.
The sense of accomplishment doesn’t rest in the acknowledgment of others. It rests on one’s confidence. The notion of success is rooted in confidence. Confidence, after all, is nothing more than faith, whether it’s in oneself or in the Almighty. Either will do.
Either does.
