'Ya Can't Steal My Joy

If we've met, I'm sure you either felt like I was super warm or super cold.  And if the latter was what you felt, I guarantee it was a direct effect of my choosing silence and observation over outward affections.  Neither experience means that I liked you any different, and my choice for quiet is something I constantly have to remind myself of.  It's a choice I make without noticing, because though extrovert I can be, introvert and observing are what I was made for.  It could be detrimental to my relationships if I chose to ignore it, but often I find myself using it.  Yep.  Using the quiet, shy, observing Elizabeth for good. You see, I've watched more people steal than anyone probably ever has.  Now don't freak out, I always seek to right the wrong  and have paid for the good stollen by someone else on two occasions and  mentioned it to all but five of the folks I've watched - whom I've never seen again.  I see everything.  The way you cross your legs because you're cold and not nervous.  The way the lady in the grocery store bats her lashes at the checkout man, but not her husband.  I see the way you smile inside when you have to discipline your kid for some hilarious act they committed.   And sometimes I giggle inside, while other times my heart breaks and still other times my observations make me furious.

So why this little, awkward tale?  Because a lady just stole some earrings from my shop, while I turned to put Leila in her chair.  And this isn't the first time she's 'borrowed' something of mine.  She's a regular.  Last time she was here she burped in my face.  True story.  One day she swore she was afraid of dogs, but loved on Leila the following.  And I can't quite figure it out, but I'm sure she'll wear her earrings in on the next visit.  And I'll compliment her on them, and she'll have no recollection of having 'borrowed' them.  And it's alright.  Because she can't steal my joy.  She is my joy.  I can't figure it out, even after all my opportunities to observe her.

Now the local high-school ball player that borrowed some Visine from Thornton's one evening, he pokes at my joy.  Because after a phone call to check on his need for Visine and his lack of a funds exchange with the Thornton's, he was neither honest nor remorseful.  And though he slipped from punishment that day, he may not have the same opportunity next time.  It's his ability to pay for something he only needs to repair signs of bad choices he's making that infuriates me.

But this lady, the joy she takes from living in her alternate reality is a-ok with me.  Because she felt like she needed those earrings. Maybe she did; maybe she didn't -- I don't care.  If they make her feel more beautiful for one second, she can return and wipe out every single last pair in this place.  Because she can't steal my joy.  She can only add to it.

It's all about perspective and choosing love and affection over quiet.  Or combining the two in my case.  This I'm learning.  So, next time you see me in the grocery or the Thornton's, don't try to steal my joy or Leila's or anything else really, because chances are I'll see it.  And not because I want to.  It just happens that way.

My little observer-dog for your viewing pleasure.  She was watching a baby horse in the stall with his mother.  Strange how much she and I are alike.