Goldilocks tried out every chair in the Bear’s home. Some too big, some too small – until finally, the famous, “just right!”
We are all, at some point, on the quest for labeling ourselves and claiming an identity a fit. It is unfortunate that many of us have spent too much time in a chair that was way too small claiming a perfect fit out of fear of the unknown. Although painful, it makes sense that we’d find ourselves stuffed in a chair if the need for the label was more important than the journey.
And then, of course, I am sure we’ve all had those moments that we’ve felt placed in the largest of chairs with the pressure of filling the seat by spreading ourselves so very thin that we became unrecognizable. Those moments can later lead to embarrassment as we recall the bullhorn we used to declare our worth or value.
Our chairs tell our stories. How we approach them, how we sample them or not sample them, and most importantly – how we value them. Do we place more significance on the label, the color or the size? Do we look for the chair that best fits us or are we seeking the chair that everyone else wants?
Ironically enough for me, my chair turned out to be a bench. It doesn’t have a designer label. It doesn’t even have arms. At times I feel like the most valuable player sitting on the bench after a great play and other times I sit on the bench as a peaceful park resident taking in all the natural beauty. I have learned to, “go with it.”
Remember in college when your t-shirts told the story of your identity and experiences, and then you become a new, young professional and you wondered why you lived in those shirts for four years? That’s how I feel now.
I am embracing the bench. The lack of identity. The lack of commitment to uphold an image. The bench is good. I know the Carpenter who made my bench, so I am confident that it will be stable and steady all of the days of my life.
What does your chair look like?