This week our group was a little smaller than usual. That's bound to happen because it's never easy to gather ten people together on a regular basis. It's a given that life will run interference - doctor's appointments, the flu, work, etc will get in the way of fun.
Our group is mostly made up of women. To keep us honest a gifted writer who happens to be of the male persuasion is also a part of the group. Or was until his boss handed him a group of interns to train. Tim has many great stories to write. His memoir is sure to be a good read. I won't be surprised if there is a chapter about the writing circle thrown in among the stories of other out of the ordinary characters.
Tim probably isn't going to be able to join us until he gets his interns trained, so I wrote him a note to tell him he is missed and to encourage him not to stop writing. (Sometimes my emails get a little carried away and I write more than just the facts!) Ro which Tim, the psychiatrist, replied, and I quote, "You're a nut".
Upon reading that, I threw my head back and laughed. Then I stopped and checked out my own reaction. I saw, with my very own eyes, a woman who can laugh in the face of insightful medical evaluation. Instead of going to bed, crawling under the covers with a box of tissues and a promising never to see the light of day again, I felt, down in my gut - the same place where the icky stuff lives - acceptance of my own nuttiness. Being a nut is not a bad thing. In fact, if being a nut is who I am, then it's really a good thing.
In the past, I've had doctors tell me I'm depressed, manipulative, angry. I've had them tell me I'm intelligent (huh?), worthy (me?) lovable (yeh, right!). And the man I credit with saving my life actually told me I'm a good writer. Thirty years ago I thought he WAS the nut, but I never forgot what he said.
Today, I'm not only embracing and enjoying my nuttiness, I'm believing in my ability to write a good story. My story. As my Sweetie would say, "this is a good thing." I wrote Tim back and thanked him for this new insight. Then I started wondering, if I am a nut, what kind of nut am I? Walnut? Hazelnut? Almond?
Here's the good doctor's reply: Hazelnuts are exotic I suppose and walnuts are practical and good for your heart, but almonds are associated with holidays and good will towards humanity for me and thus to me you are an almond. Almonds also have calcium which are good for women as they uhhhhhh mature.
Since I am by nature, obedient, I'm going to stick with Tim's assessment. I think he's right. Given a choice of all the nuts in the world, I'd probably pick an almond first. If for no other reason than Panera's bear claws warm from the oven are covered in thinly sliced toasted almondy goodness. Food fit for the gods. No doubt the reason I'm drawn to this delectable sweet thing instead of pecan rolls.
My journey of self-discovery has been a long one. The road has taken many twists and turns. I've tripped over my own feet and stumbled over stones that turned into golden nuggets. I can't say I've always enjoyed the trip, but I am grateful for the people along the way who have offered a hand and gentle (sometimes not so gentle) encouragement. I know this is not the end of the road by any means, that there is way more to discover. But for today, I'm going to just be a NUT!
If you were a nut, what kind would you be?
Wishing for you the sweet smell of almond oil and the crunchy goodness of a handful of lightly salted almonds straight from the can,