The Measure of a Man.

How does one measure the worth of a man?  Is it assigned?  Gifted?  Earned? Is it based upon my own perception of myself?  Other’s perceptions?   And am I still worthy and valuable even when I don’t feel it?  

I’ve fell into that terrible trap of deciding my own value based on the world around me.  I deem myself worthy or valuable based upon how much of my art sells.  How many compliments I get on it.  How much my husband likes it.  Or I base it on how much better I become on the banjo or how often I get asked to play (yes….I play the banjo.  NOT well!)   I sponsor, coordinate and host art crawls on the sidewalks of the Historic, lovely, Downtown Davidson sidewalks and I build my confidence on how many people turn out.  How many artists show. How the artists/customers rate the show.  How much press we receive.

And on and on and on.

I build my value on such things.  I base my worth.  It decides my likability. my necessity, my very essence as a human being on this earth.

Sound dramatic?   Maybe.  But such is life.  ‘Do they like what I do?  If so….that means they like ME!  I have value!!’

Oh, dear.

I can’t remember ever being any different.  But, that doesn’t mean I believe all this crap is true.  I know it’s all a lie I tell myself.  I let it get into my head, I entertain it and at some point, as always……I crash and burn from it.  Whether letting myself believe my success induced high translate into an ego trip or whether my crash and burn event puts me in a fetal position pity party, nursing my broken arrogance. 

I don’t think it’s okay that I base my worth on a single event or even a series of events.  But, it happens.  I get serious high or low based on such things and then at some point I have to force myself to take a good hard look in the mirror and say, ‘What the heck??  Get a grip, Keene!   (that’s my maiden name and what my brain still calls me).  Move it or lose it!  Stop being an arrogant ass and get living!'

So…I get a grip and I get living.  I remind myself for the millionth time that my worth is based on much, much more than my accomplishments or lack thereof.  My worth is determined by what’s inside me.  How I was created and who I was created by.  By how much I love and how much of myself I give.  How I use the talents God has given me to better the world around me, whether it’s saving a planet or loving 2 silly, little girls who make my life worth living. Because truth be told, my worth was given to me before I was born.  Before I did a single thing with my life.  And yes, I’ll have to remind myself of that a million more times.  But so long as I keep reminding…..I’m getting somewhere.

Life is good.  I am worth more than a bushel and a peck (if you are from Kentucky, you know that’s a crazy amount of awesomeness).  And so are you.   Even when we crash and burn.  Even when things are dreary.  Even when things are lovely.  Worth does not go up and down.  It stays consistent, even when we don’t.  

And that’s a fact.